


smoky layer of mist in the heart of a star

by LilaacStars



Series: love you like a love song. [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Marichat, Mental Illness, References to Addiction, References to Depression, References to Suicidal Tendencies, Sad, Self-Harm, adrienette - Freeform, kinda poetic writing style for this one, overbearing guilt, pre-reveal/post relationship, pre-reveal/pre-relationship, rated M bc of heavy subjects, references to suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-11-15 18:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18078842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilaacStars/pseuds/LilaacStars
Summary: Adrien thinks traitors don't deserve forgiveness but still reaches for a familiar hand to take him back.Being in his hometown is excruciating, but he needs to get used to it, he needs to get back to his roots and accept this new shadow on his heart.And while tries to forgive himself and make amends with his past, the love of his life appears on his path.Ten years have passed and things are as heavy as the day after the battle, his love for her is just as strong.





	1. stale fog.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm trying this again.  
> i wanted this to be a one shot and deleted it  
> now i feel like going in chapters is better  
> idk this is a mess of a story to write, but i love it  
> it is so dear to me that i'm afraid every time i try to post it, but here we go.  
> so idk, just trying to post this again.

**_act i. this garden is filled with blossoming loneliness_ **

**_i tie myself to this sand castle filled with thorns._ **

The most beautiful dreams are always the ones that have an end, but you have not seen completed. And the most torturous nightmares are the ones that never end.

But here is the question, how do we know if that dream wasn’t the nightmare all along? How do you know that the dream is going to have a good ending? How do you know what is going to happen?

You don’t.

You don’t know what is going to happen.

Not knowing what is about to happen can be intriguing and exciting, or a nerve-wracking feeling that punches you in the gut at every step you give.

Once you have reached rock bottom, it would be logical to think that you’ll be excited, waiting for a streak of light to erase the shadows, that little bit of hope that maintains you afloat.

But the truth is that, once you reached rock bottom, the sunlight comes from too far away, and you are already used to the darkness and have found comfort on it, so why try to go up when it’s so hard and you could fall? Why fall again and hurt yourself one more time, when you’re already at your lowest point?

That’s the thing about nightmares, we only know we are inside one after waking up, and that’s why the scariest nightmares are the endless ones because you always think you’re in a dream and are waiting to see the end of it, the part where everything turns out to be alright. You’re waiting for the light to wake you up.

What’s the point of waking up if you’re only going to have horrible memories to haunt you in the place you’re supposed to be safe. Isn’t it better to just keep it going?

There’s no right or wrong answer for these kinds of questions.

Adrien Agreste knew that well.

He had known it for a really long time.

Ten years ago, at the beginning of the days of spring, flowers had not been the only thing to bloom. Lies, treason, and pain had found their way inside the garden his heart was. And a once beautiful panorama of white and yellow flowers had been infested with bad roots and weeds.

Adrien was a good person, but that didn’t mean he was impossible to corrupt, because corruption doesn’t always grow from hostility or hypocrisy, sometimes it gets inside our heads and creates a nest with our good intentions and our naïve beliefs. But that doesn’t save us of anything.

A rose is a rose no matter what you call it.

The decisions he took were not the right ones, and the consequences of them followed him till this day. He carried them over his shoulders, they were heavy and whispered in his ear every day, making it harder to handle the weight and keep himself from falling.

That’s why it was so hard to return to the place he once called home.

Actually, he had been back for two months, but he had not left the little apartment.

He was too afraid to show his face.

The naked truth would write its words all over his body for people to see, for people to judge.

But Adrien couldn’t live his life like this anymore, he was tired of running away but the frightening feeling never left his side. It was a constant that haunted him day and night.

He wished he would have grown accustomed to it, but it always presented itself in different ways.

However, today he wasn’t going to let the scary thoughts and emotions take control over him. He couldn’t erase them, but he could be courageous and walk outside, take a step further to the unknown and hope that would be enough to start his healing.

He was only five steps away from the door.

The apartment hallway was short, white walls with gold decorations, and finger marks all over it from the nights where he sleepwalked and made his way to the door, waking up before touching the handle. Looking at it now, with fear tainted glasses the door was kilometers away.

By habit, he touched his ring finger to twist around the black and strong ring that he once wore, but right now it was naked and cold. He didn’t wear the ring anymore, he still had it and took it everywhere he went but he hadn’t use it in years, it was another reminder of the past he wanted to leave behind. He wanted it badly, but he knew it was just wishful thinking, the memories, and his decisions would follow him to his gravestone.

Adrien took one look at the mirror in front of him, he fixed the collar of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves of his baby blue sweater. He ruffled his blonde hair and pulled the long locks on top of his head up in a tiny bun.

His model-heartthrob appearance was long gone, and a sad man with prominent under eye bags was looking back at him.

He grabbed the grey topcoat from the hanger, put it on a buttoned it up. Taking one final glance at the mirror, made sure he had his keys and wallet and left the apartment, not looking back so he couldn’t regret his decision and come back inside like a frightened cat.

The apartment he was living in stood in a great location, only a few blocks away from _Le Centre Pompidou_ and a block away of a metro station.

As it was usual for the cosmopolite capital, it was packed with tourists, some lost some staring in awe to the buildings and the little cafés with their outside tables and chairs looking at the street and their red signs with gold letters and words with too many vowels and accents.

These things had never called Adrien’s attention, he was French and Parisian, there was little to be starstruck about when you were raised in here. After being ten years away, he could see all the magic and splendor of the city like the tourists did. 

Instead of walking to the closest metro as he had planned he decided to walk a little and get in the next station he could find.

He wanted to capture the essence of the city that was once his home. He couldn’t call it home now, he was unfamiliar to it and he only had blurry memories of how the city actually worked and moved. The visitors around him looked more at ease and connected with the city than him.

Adrien was an outcast.

He touched his hand, stopping before he could reach for his ring finger.

Sighing in disbelief, he looked up to the sky, the common grey clouds were covering Paris. He wondered if it was going to rain any time soon.

When he lived here he could correctly guess the majority of the time when it was going to happen, but right now he doubted he would.

The French man kept walking, focusing his attention on buildings and street signs, on marks on the asphalt and dogs walking with their owners, on anything that didn’t have the ability to recognize him, and by default judge him.

At the middle of his walk, he approached one of the magazine kiosks and bought one Spanish science magazine.

After living for six years in Madrid, it was not easy to leave the language behind, and he needed some sort of familiarity, even if it was a fake one because Paris wasn’t giving him the serene feeling he was hoping to encounter when he came back.

He found a nice and not-so-crowded café where he sat down to read his magazine. Adrien asked for one _bombón_ coffee and strawberry shortcake to enjoy as he read.

He ignored the look on the waitress eyes and did his best to focus on the words he was reading, instead of wondering if they had recognized him.

It should be hard to do, pictures of him hadn’t appeared on newspapers forever and if they did, they were old pictures from his modeling days.

His hair was similar to an undercut, shorter on the sides, almost buzzcut, but it was longer on top, he also styled it different than when he was a teen; he had a short stubble and his face was more angular than it had been before, and of course, young Adrien didn’t have a scar that covered the right part of his face from his forehead to his upper lip.

Thanks to his side job as protector of Paris he had always been in great shape, but now he was more muscular than skinny, his shoulders were broad, and his back was strong. The gym was a good place to release stress, frustration, and past traumas.

He didn’t look like the perfect sweet, yet, seductive boy, his father had marketed. But, he was still the same, people could recognize him if they took their time and saw past all those little details.

The news would have died down, his horrible past was not the daily gossip, but the curiosity still remained, so some people would look, some people would recognize him.

Every once in a while, Adrien would get an email or a call from a journalist asking for an interview, he tried really hard to keep his life as private as he could, he didn’t share his number or email with anyone but there was always someone who cared enough to investigate and track him down. He had changed his phone number multiple times, blocked email addresses and kept their job information to recognize them in case they would email him again under other names.

He didn’t feel safe using his name anymore, that’s why he wrote all his articles under a pseudonym.

Living in Madrid and not in Paris, certainly helped, it wasn’t so hard to keep a low profile in the Spanish capital. Spanish people knew about the superheroes and villains of Paris, but they weren’t up to date with the issue as French people were, the name Adrien Agreste had no meaning to them.

He was recognized as “that young model” a few times but never as the son of the designer, never as the son of the horrible villain that had tormented Paris.

He had friends in Madrid, he could count them with one hand, but he didn’t need more. And a stable job, a job he had been lucky enough to keep after his boss had found out who he really was, a job he actually loved and that he could come back if he wanted to. He had a nice place in the _Salamanca_ neighborhood, a nice motorcycle, a nice coffee to go every morning before he went to work and a nice place to go for _tapas_ or _de copas_ when he felt like.

Everything in Madrid was _oh-so-nice._

The first two years, it had been spectacular, he found a place where no one would stare at him for unusual reasons, he clicked well with the Spanish energy and he found a great therapist that helped him go through the first stages of his trauma and depression. He had melted the walls that surrounded him and used them to create a new path to the life he wanted to live.

But after the initial rush, the regrets came back.

Madrid was so great because he only looked at the future that the city offered, the opportunities that he could take if he was adventurous enough, but no one can plan a future without looking at the past. The past didn’t have to be definitory, it didn’t have to rule your future choices, but it was the ground of the new beginning, and it had to be considered.

And when he started reviewing it, he realized things were not going well, he was just making a blind eye to everything that had happened, and that wasn’t the right way to move on. His therapist agreed with him and tried her best to guide the sessions and the healing towards that direction, but they never reached their final destination. She said that was normal, that there wasn’t a fixed time to get to his goal, but Adrien was disappointed.

He was a coward, he left because he was afraid of facing consequences, he left without thinking what his actions meant to others. He left his friends behind without saying a word. They tried to contact him, his legal team had informed him about it, one of his lawyers had tried to convince him to contact them back but he declined. He was ashamed of it now.

When he realized his mistakes, it was already too late, he didn’t know how to apologize, and he wasn’t sure if he would get the forgiveness of his friends. They were great people, wonderful to say the least, but they were loyal and honest, and he had been all the opposite. He didn’t deserve their friendship.

Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed. He needed to erase those thoughts of his mind or he would never accomplish what he came to do.

He finished his coffee, asked for the ticket and left two euros as a tip before leaving. He walked to a metro a block away and took the line his phone said would take him to his destination. Stepping out seven stops later, watching his watch, he checked the time to assure he wasn’t going to be late. His old boss had been kind enough to pull some strings and get him an interview with a firm here in Paris, so he could do some freelance jobs as he stayed in the city. It was one of the benefits that being friends with your boss gave you.

**_xx_ **

The interview went well. Adrien didn’t mention his surname at any given moment and asked to publish under his pseudonym, they didn’t have a problem with it.

He could tell that the man who interviewed him was trying to remember from where he knew him from, but if he remembered, he didn’t mention it.

He left the building where the office was. Standing in the middle of the street without the worries of the interview he realized he was quite close to the _Le Jardin du Luxembourg_.

He didn’t remember how far away it was, but he had the time, it didn’t matter if he took an hour to get there, he was going.

The day so far had been excellent, he could jump of excitement if the dark twisting feeling of sadness was leaning against his arm, making its way to his heart.

He wanted to scream, cry, punch something, maybe jump out of a bridge to see if the numbness of his disappeared then. There was nothing worse than knowing you should be happy but being empty instead.

 _Le Jardin du Luxembourg_ was the right place to go, it was one of his favorite spots in Paris, and it held more good memories than bad.

He could find shelter there.

And so, he did, every day after that he would go and stay there the time he needed. He found a comfortable place where the trees were abundant and there were no many kids or tourists around.

He would go every day, listen to music, write for work, pinpoint ideas or just look around and feel at ease.

He was having a hard time but being there helped.


	2. doing okay, unlike my heart

**_act ii. what’s your name? do you have a place to go?_ **

**_could you tell me?_ **

**_i saw you hidden in this garden._ **

Journalism had never been on his career options. He didn’t have much either. He knew he liked science and that he didn’t want to take over his father’s business. Those were the only things he knew for certain.

He was still surprised by his choice, but he enjoyed it his job. When he decided he wanted to go to university, after a year of doing nothing but take long walks around the Spanish capital he didn’t have a major in mind, he only wanted to study, he wanted to have a title, be a professional so he could earn his own money and not rely on his father’s money.

When he chose journalism, he did out of spite.

He was reading an article on his phone, about him, well not actually  _ him _ , but Chat Noir. The written words made his skin crawl, they weren’t lies, but they weren’t completely true either, and the way they had described his relationship with Ladybug. It had been the last straw. Later that day he was enrolled for the journalism program at the  _ Universidad Complutense. _

He fell in love with it quickly and he understood why Alya was so passionate about it. But he was a scientific journalist, Alya instead focused more on politics and remarkable women in all their areas. He read his work every time he found it, he wrote for several newspapers, magazines, and websites.

Her main focus was her own blog, she had multiple collaborators, but she was the main face of it and she had earned a prestigious reputation. Once he had tried to email her a piece of his work, but he backed down later on, too afraid she could find out it was him who was sending it.

He hadn’t been able to do much freelance, he found his job only a month after he finished his internship and he really liked the environment of the office, so he didn’t need to do it, or had the wish to do it.

It was fun.

Different magazines had contacted him asking him to write about entertaining and new projects and news. And trying out new writing styles to fit his client best had been challenging but satisfactory.

There was a bad side, everything had a bad side.

Doing freelance gave him too much free time to be alone with his thoughts. It was the third month of not being in an office and he felt the absence of the distraction the hours of being sitting on a tiny desk gave him.

He tried his best to get out of his apartment, write at cafés, museums and gardens. His mind wouldn’t leave him alone anywhere he went.

He found himself spending more and more time at the gardens. He was sure every employee already knew him. He wondered how many had already figured it out who he was.

That day he decided to change his routine. He had already finished the assignment he had for that week, so he could do whatever he wanted for the rest of the day.

He chose the  _ Quartier Latin _ as his next destination. He hadn’t stepped into that neighborhood in all the six months he had been back. Besides  _ Le Jardin du Luxembourg, Quartier Latin  _ was a high favorite on his list.

He had lunch at  _ Saint Michel, _ he had always adored the narrow streets filled with restaurants, bright signs and different flags hanging in front of every restaurant. There was so much to choose, _ Saint Miche _ l offered the most eclectic cuisine in all of Paris.

He had a glass of wine and the menu of the day that included a Caprese salad, savory crepes and creme brulee for dessert.

Half finishing his meal, a gorgeous and tall girl touched his shoulder. She had recognized him, but she was polite the whole time she talked to him, so Adrien didn’t run away from her. She never brought up his father or why he left Paris, she asked about his modeling career, she told him she was an aspiring model.

Adrien tried to be as nice as he could without overstepping and told her that he believed she could make a career of it, that she had what it took to do it, aesthetically speaking, of course, she didn’t know her enough to know how she would take the burden that working on fashion was.

Maybe he had been too amicable because the girl sat down and didn’t stop talking, not when Adrien finished, not when he asked for the bill, not when he told her he had to go.

She asked him out for a drink. He rejected her, said he had some business to take, he didn’t want to lie, but if he didn’t she would have never left him alone.

Before they parted ways, she gave him a napkin with her number on it.

Adrien sighed.

He didn’t think he was going to call her, but he kept it anyway.

He walked towards the closest garden, the _ Jardin de Plantes. _ It wasn’t as well known as the Luxembourg garden was, but it was just as beautiful. The sun was starting to set so he doubted many people would still be there and after the encounter with the girl he needed peace.

He buttoned up his trench coat, the days were starting to get colder and he found himself missing Madrid’s weather. It was cold too, but the summer and warm days lasted longer than they did in Paris.

He made it to the garden after a thirty-minute walk, the sun was only a slim orange line in the sky, the clouds were mostly grey with shades of pinks and the light posts were starting to turn on, adding a white shade to the view and the streets.

He passed by a group of teenagers, they were talking about the Mexican greenhouse between laughs and jokes.

He followed them, he had been many times in the garden, but he had never visited said greenhouse.

He wasn’t surprised when he saw it, it looked similar to any other greenhouse in Paris, green steel, big rectangular windows but these ones were painted pink. He shrugged, it wasn’t a big deal, but the pink did really make it stand out, a little, but it did.

He leaned against one of the grids at the side of the stairs and watched the building more carefully this time, trying to find something different about it.

Maybe with more sunlight, it looked more spectacular, but the light bulbs of the light posts just made it look like a regular greenhouse. Maybe those teens had never seen a greenhouse before.  

He sighed. There was nothing magical about it, he only wanted it to be. He wanted to feel excited again, he wanted a different emotion to fear and sadness rushing through his body. He wanted to be excited about more things that just work, he wanted to see the beauty of the simple world again. He did it when he was a teenager, he did it when he was Chat Noir.

He did it before everything crumbled down.

Nonetheless, he stayed there, frustrated but still trying to find something beautiful about it. While he looked at the building he realized a few people had walked by and turned around to catch a glimpse before keep walking their way.

He heard a little girl ask his mother about the scar on his face, she said that he looked like a supervillain, but that he was too pretty for that. Adrien didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. He did neither, he faked he hadn’t listened, so the little girl wouldn’t get scolded harder than she was being.

She was right, he was too pretty to be a super villain, he fitted a superhero way better, and he was for a while, then he had turned sides.

He saw the teenagers he had followed exit the building, still laughing, still teasing each other, he wondered if they had ever stopped. If their friendship was like the friendship he once shared with his classmates, he doubted it.

He smiled. He was glad they enjoyed their time together.

Adrien followed them with his sight until they were too far away for him to see. He shifted his sight and when he did his heart sank.

He knew at some point it had to happen. He was utterly surprised that it hadn’t happened before, six months was a long time and he hadn’t run into anyone he knew in that period of time, it was bound to happen at any given minute, and today, this very same moment was it.

Recognizing her was easy, he had studied her for years, from different angles and lights; he had seen her happy, sad, angry, every range of emotion she could portray was familiar to him. It only took one glance and he knew it was her.

Her hair was up in what he believed had been a bun, but it was too messy to be called that now, two chopsticks were tangled in her deep black hair. She looked taller and slimmer, she was wearing a white parka, dark jeans and a pair of sneakers. Her outfit was relaxed but she didn’t look calm.

She had a sketchbook and crumbled papers on her hands and her black bag was falling off her shoulder.  

She looked troubled, he could tell just by her body movements, he was still too far to take a good look at her face.

But it was her, it was Marinette.

Adrien rubbed his forehead.

There was nothing he hated more than being cordial only because you had to be. Manners were a big part of Adrien’s life, they had always been essential, and he respected them, but fake cordiality was the worst kind of hypocrisy.

However, as much as did not want to do it he was thankful for it right now because it was the only energy moving him towards Marinette. The fear of rejection was too powerful, and if his cordiality wasn’t as strong then he would have whirled and walked away to another direction, far far away from Marinette.

But there he was, approaching here.

_ One, _

_         two, _

_                  three, _

_                            four. _

_      Four  _ steps closer to Marinette.

                             Five,

                       six,

            seven,

  eight.

_ Nine  _ steps and he started regretting it, but there was no time to go backward. He was too close, and he had caught her attention.

He watched her react and it felt like he was watching it in slow motion.

Marinette’s eyes grew big with surprise, her mouth opened a little and then she started blinking in disbelief. She pressed her lips together and twitched her head, she looked at him from head to toe, twice, her mouth fell open once again. Her bag finally rolled up and fell to the ground.

By instinct, Adrien crouched to pick it up. Marinette did too, and their heads crashed.

Adrien growled, suppressing his curse, Marinette was a whole other story. She wasn’t subtle about it. She never was about anything.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry, so, so, sorry! Why did I try to pick it up? I realized you did it, but you shouldn’t have, you didn’t have to. I’m a mess, not as bad as before but you can’t change that much. I’m so sorry, Adrien,”

Listening to her say his name was amazing. For starters, she said it right, no matter how hard he tried to teach his friends and coworkers how to pronounce his name right, no one ever said it like it was supposed to be said. Only once one of his coworkers had nailed it because he had taken French on _ bachiller. _ And it was not only the right pronunciation but the way she said and that it was she who said it.

“Don’t apologize, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” He said, his first words to her. Not exactly, what he had in mind, he should be the one apologizing for all the hurt he had done. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I am,” She nodded. They were still kneeling down, she was really close, and he couldn’t help but stare at her eyes. Marinette’s eyes were pretty, not because they were big or blue, they were pretty because they held every emotion Marinette felt, they were sincere eyes.

Adrien stood up, he was tempted to offer her a hand and lift her but before he could decide she was already standing up.

“You’re here,” Marinette said in awe.

“Yeah, I had lunch at Saint Michel and decided to take a walk since I don’t have any work to do for the day” He knew he didn’t mean here to here, here, the garden but France, Paris but he wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. Marinette seemed to understand that.

“What a coincidence,” Marinette gasped and then she frowned, “Well, not exactly. I did have lunch at Saint Michel and decided to take a walk, but not because I don’t have any work to do but because I have to finish my work,”

“Ah,” Adrien looked at the sketchpad on her hand, the page didn’t have any drawings, only squares of different colors painted with markers. “Designs? “He pointed with a nod of his head.

“Yes, I have a shop with one of my old classmates! It’s not big and we are not selling all the time, it’s exclusive so we do a few items and we sell them and then we do another collection. It’s going pretty well, this will be our third year doing it, we have established ourselves in the market and we have loyal clients. Oh! And this past fashion week many bloggers and influencers wore our clothes, it was fantastic! Now one actress called us to--” She stopped, her cheeks turned red, “I’m sorry, I’m rambling,”

“Stop saying sorry… please,” Adrien whispered, not sure if she could listen to him. He looked down at his hands, he was fidgeting. She was being so nice, she acted like he never left or never betrayed them “I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, Marinette,”

“What about you? What are you doing?”

“I’m fine, I’m doing freelance work at the moment,” He looked up again, “It’s going well, it’s interesting,”

“Freelance, I did a bit of freelance before the store skyrocketed. But I don’t think my freelance is the same as yours. What do you do?”

“Oh, right,” Adrien hit his forehead, “I’m a journalist, I write about science and technology,”

Marinette smiled “You write? That’s amazing, Adrien! I mostly read fashion spreads and Alya’s writing, and of course the news, but I’m not an avid reader of the science section, I read it when a picture calls my attention but now I’ll pay more attention to it. For what publications have you written?”

Marinette was too excited, too happy, she was too bright, that didn’t sit well in his stomach. It was twisting, tangling in knots.

He didn’t expect her to be mean, but she was being extremely nice, adorable even. It was impossible that she had forgotten about the way he left. Or maybe she didn’t care anymore, and Marinette wasn’t one to hold grudges.

Adrien looked at Marinette, searching for any sign that could give him more information about what she was really thinking but he only saw a girl expecting for an answer.

“Newspapers, mostly  _ Libération _ and  _ Le Parisien _ , and I’ve had articles published in magazines like  _ Pour la Science, Sciences et Avenir _ and  _ La Recherche,”  _ He said, “All my other works are in international magazines and most of them are in Spanish,”

“In Spanish?” Marinette’s voice was an octave higher than normal. She really must have been surprised.

“Yes, I’ve worked in Madrid for two years,” He admitted.

Marinette let out a little “oh”, she sounded disappointed.

“You’ve been in Spain all this time?” She asked. So, the job talk was far forgotten, uh?

“Yes,” He admitted, and it burned his heart to do so.

“All of it… since, since you left?” Marinette’s eyes were shining more than they did before. If she started crying in front of him he was going to lose it too.

He didn’t move, he couldn’t talk, he knew what she was doing, and he couldn’t be honest about it right now, he needed more time to prepare.

“I didn’t know you knew Spanish,” Marinette said after the long and uncomfortable silence.

“My fa--” Adrien stopped, “I was taught many languages,”

Marinette’s change of stand and the softer her features turned to let him know that she knew exactly what he had been about to say. He was accustomed to catching people who looked at him with pity, but he couldn’t stand it coming from someone he loved so deeply, it was one of the reasons why he ran away the moment he did.

“Do you want to go for coffee? We could catch up?” Marinette offered.

Automatically he answered, forgetting it was Marinette who was talking to him, “I’m sorry but I’m busy,”

Marinette gasped and shot him a confused look. She registered the lie immediately, of course, she did, only a minute ago he told her he was free from work.

But she didn’t show how angry he knew she was, she didn’t call him out. She put on a fake smile, grabbed her bag from the strap and pulled it closer to her chest.

“Well, then I guess I’ll see you around…” Marinette wasn’t good at faking, there was poison all over her words.

“Mm,” That was the only sound Adrien managed to make with his mouth.

Marinette narrowed her eyes as she studied him one more time before turning to the left and start walking, “Have a nice day, Adrien,”

“Have a nice day, Mari,”

Adrien sighed, he shook the watch on his left wrist and tried not to look at Marinette as she walked away. Away from  _ him _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i gotta feeling i should have never erased this thing lol  
> i still love it as much as ever no matter how it is doing so thank you to all of you who read it again, discovered it now, or whatever you did but left kudos and nice words for me x
> 
>  
> 
> find me on tumblr : buginettez  
> tumblr (og writing): camiescribbles


	3. the song paused, the song stopped.

**_act iii. and i know, all your warmth is real,_ **

**_your hand picks up the blue flowers,_ **

**_i want to hold it_ **

He didn’t saw Marinette again. Not for lack of effort, he changed his whole weekly routine and started going to  _ Saint Michel _ and _ Le Jardin de Plantes _ every day, hoping to see her again drawing under one of the trees or sitting on the stairs that guided you to the Mexican Greenhouse.

He looked for her store online, it had been a hard hunt, Marinette did not mention the name of it and when he tried to look for it is using her name as a reference, he only found her old and abandoned  _ facebook _ page. But, after trying different words, phrases and websites he finally found it.

The name of the boutique was  _ Rosé 93,  _ just by the website he could tell it lived to his standards. It was sophisticated and fun, modern without leaving the classics behind.  _ It was Marinette. _

They had a selection of online products but most of the great pieces in the catalog were sold in stores, and they only had a few pictures to show off the clothes.

Adrien was tempted to go, but there were no male lines available and he didn’t have an excuse to go and look.

He didn’t have a sister, a mother or a girlfriend, and he wasn’t about to create one just because he wanted to see Marinette again.

And he had no business to do in the neighborhood Marinette’s boutique was, he didn’t want to look like a stalker. After how they parted he couldn’t go and greet her as nothing had happened.

He could go and apologize but that meant he would have to explain a lot more things that the ones he was ready to talk about.

He was too scared to see her.

Marinette was lovely and sweet but also extremely intimidating when she wanted to be, and after his rejection, he felt he wasn’t going to be on her good side anymore. He had to wait for the waters to calm down.

That’s what he told himself and a month passed by.

A month when he couldn’t escape the thought of her.

She was there when he woke up and when he went to sleep. It was impossible to get rid of her.

Years ago, he had been able to keep the memory of her in a box in the darkest part of his mind, with lock and key on the door of the room. It had worked, but only because there was nothing in Madrid to make him think of her. However, Paris had bottled up Marinette’s essence and it spread it on the wind, it was impossible for Adrien to miss it.

He had more memories with her than he had with any other  _ civilian _ person in his life. No one would believe him if he said that out low, and it was an understandable doubt. Adrien and Marinette didn’t have a million memories together, their friendship had developed later on and they had missed many opportunities to create beautiful memories together, but Marinette and  _ Chat Noir _ had so many he was sure he had forgotten at least a quarter of them.

Their friendship had happened without them noticing it was happening.

After an extremely disappointing night where Chat Noir had poured down all his feelings to Ladybug, a night where he had been rejected, he found himself visiting Marinette to tell her about it. She had been the one who had encouraged him to forgive Ladybug (now he realized that there was nothing to forgive, the one who had been wrong was him) and he told her all about the night, if he couldn’t talk with Ladybug about it then Marinette was the best option.

Slowly, but steadily, they formed a strong bond.

Marinette would wait for him every night and they would chat about their day. Their conversations were superficial at the beginning, about school, akumas, TV shows and movies. He couldn’t remember how that changed, but he started telling her things that he wouldn’t tell anyone else. Not Nino, not Ladybug or Plagg. Marinette spilled secrets too, she was cautious with her words and didn’t give away any names, but he could tell she told him more than she did to anyone else.

Marinette was his best friend in the whole world, he knew her like he never knew anyone before, and he opened up his heart as much as he could as Chat Noir, no one knew the darkest corners of his heart as she did, no one knew all the silly things that made him laugh or the things that made him cry. Only Marinette did.

Against his will, he  _ fell _ for her.

He never pursued her, he couldn’t do it because he wasn’t totally honest with her, he was hiding a part of himself. If he didn’t know her without the mask then he would have, but he did know her and until she wasn’t comfortable with him revealing his identity he couldn’t do it. He told her he was going to wait until she was ready to know.

That time never came.

After his betrayal, she didn’t want anything to do with him and he couldn’t blame her for that.

Still, it had hurt like nothing had before, and he had a good number of scars, both physical and emotional to compare the pain with and none of them had been as heartbreaking as the look on Marinette’s eyes. Not even the look Ladybug gave him when she realized he had stabbed her in the back.

Saying that wasn’t right,  _ but _ it was true.

Ladybug used to be the best of friends he ever had, but he didn’t know her like he knew Marinette and Ladybug didn’t know all the secrets Marinette knew about him. The bond with Ladybug had been strong, but at some point, his bond with Marinette had become unbreakable.

He counted that as his first betrayal to Ladybug.

The second one was the fatal one. The one that broke them.

What he did was unforgivable, he tried to excuse it a few times, but he never got too far. Deep in his heart, his morals spoke louder than the desires he once had. That little wish he had hoped could be granted was not reason enough to betray Ladybug.

He wasn’t as naïve as people pictured him, he took advantage of it and hid behind it for some time, but the truth always finds a way to reveal itself. And Adrien had been terrified of that moment, even if he knew damn well that it was approaching.

Adrien touched the back of his shoulder, his fingers swirled around the pink irregular spot that covered his skin. He deserved more punishment that the scar on his face and the few burnt spots that covered his body.

The backlash for his actions had hurt, but they weren’t what he deserved either. No matter how hard the articles tried to put him down, to paint him on a bad light, there was always a seed of doubt in between their words, a sentence that tried to bring hope to their readers that the old superhero was still inside of the cat-boy. They suggested that he had good reasons, they said he was probably being blackmailed and trying to keep Ladybug safe because the Chat Noir everyone knew and loved would put his life at risk if that meant to keep Ladybug alive. It didn’t make sense that he was trying to push her off the rooftops.

His therapist repeated him every session that there was nothing unforgivable about his betrayal, that if he put all the cards on the table his judgment had been clouded, and that if he realized what he did wrong if he felt regret, he deserved a new chance. She never said his friends were obligated to forgive him, but that he deserved a chance to ask for forgiveness.

After years of listening to those words, he finally decided it was time to take a risk.

He regretted it, every last part of it. He was ready to ask for forgiveness, his apology wouldn’t come from an empty place, it would come from the deepest part of his heart, and it wouldn’t be a spare of the moment speech, he knew what it was meant to be said, he knew his faults and he was ready to pay for them. He was ready to try. Now, he was able to understand one thing, he never thought he could when he was running away from the pain: Maybe, his friends were never going to forgive him, and they were allowed to not accept his apology, but this wasn’t about Adrien.

His selfish decisions had hurt people, people he cared about, people he loved. So, he wasn’t entitled to forgiveness, but their friends and all the people who were damaged by his actions  _ deserved  _ an apology.

That was why he was back in Paris. However, it ended he would know he did the right thing, and perhaps he would finally be able to find closure.  

But, seeing how he had already ruined one chance to apologize, and made the situation even worse by declining Marinette’s invitation, he wasn’t confident about this anymore.  He had considered leaving the apartment and the start of his labor life in Paris a success after the weeks he spent hid in there, and now he saw the whole panorama and realized he wasn’t going anywhere.

He wished he could be braver than he was.

He hated being indoors, he guessed it was the past trauma biting his ankles, but for he was frightened. After his encounter with Marinette, he was afraid or what he could do if he stumbled with another one of his old friends, so he was hiding inside of his apartment once again.

However, he was losing his mind. He wanted to go outside, walk and listen to other people, watch the city move like a silent spectator.

It was easier when he used the ring. He wasn’t Adrien and he was free.

He sighed.

_ What a ridiculous thought. _

He promised he was never going to use the ring again. He didn’t deserve it, nonetheless, he always carried it around, and at that moment, the box where he kept it was burning the pocket of his jacket.

He wanted to use it.

If he was honest, he had been thinking about it the whole week.

After discovering the fire escape on his apartment, the one that took him to the roof of the building, the idea had been running around in his mind. A monster grew inside him, an insatiable monster, he needed the adrenaline, he needed the views, he needed the familiar feeling.

If he did, it wasn’t going to be like the old times, it was going to be different and unexpected, he knew. No one was going to be excited by seeing the old superhero, no, the old  _ villain. _

He took the box and held it on his hands, eyes focused on it for a long time. He always had it with him, but he hadn’t opened the box since he put the ring inside after Nathalie took him back home after staying in the hospital and gave him the ring, begging to him to get rid of it.

He couldn’t get rid of it. Getting rid of the ring, meant getting rid of Plagg and he  _ couldn’t  _ do that, he needed the magical creature by his side.

At that moment their relationship was hostile, but he still needed him, so instead of finding a way to give Plagg back, he had imprisoned him like a genie in a lamp.

If he used the ring he had to face Plagg and he didn’t want Plagg’s fury, he was not strong enough to listen to his words. Plagg knew exactly what to say to make him feel miserable, and Adrien was already miserable enough without the words he could throw at him. That was one of the reasons he never opened the box and used the ring.

But right now, he was desperate.

He opened the box and took the ring between his fingers. The green blinding light already appearing in front of him as he put the ring on his finger.

“Adrien!” Plagg said his name with what he thought sounded like tenderness, but that couldn’t be it, not after all he had put him through.

Adrien wasn’t going to let Plagg say anything else, no matter how much he wanted to talk to his old friend.

He wasn’t ready to talk to Marinette, but he was getting used to the idea that one day he would be able to approach her and talk like a normal people did, but Plagg was a whole different story. He did not only betrayed Plagg, but he also used him against his will, he forced him to be part of a fight he never wanted to be part off, he was Adrien’s slave that whole time, and he didn’t deserve his forgiveness. And that was the other reason why he hadn’t used the ring before.

Already with the ring on his finger, he put his hand on a fist.

“ _ Transformez-moi _ ,” He whispered, loud enough for the order to work. He said it without looking at the black kwami because he was about to use him again. He had no shame, he couldn’t face him.

He was a horrible person.

**_xx_ **

He used the fire escape as he had planned, checking if there was someone close before he jumped to the next rooftop. It was past twilight, the stars were visible, there was only one orange line over the sky that crashed with the dark sky and the lights of Paris were not all on yet; he did not need to be as cautious as if the sun was just setting.

He was hiding in the shadows, behind the pipes, in alleys, any empty area. In the old days, he ran freely over the rooftops of Paris and it was the most liberating activity he had known. When he was angry, disappointed or sad he would transform and just run, run, run, run, until he was too tired to continue. When he ran there were no bad thoughts or feelings, it was just him, the rooftops, the wind and the shining moon looking down at him.

His starting point was different than the usual one but he followed a very similar path than the one he did on his patrols, he did it without thinking about it and once he realized a bittersweet sentiment rushed through his bloodstream. The familiarity was still there. He wished he could share it with his dear friend.

He knew how important was to stay hidden, but a part of him was wishing to be seen. If he was seen he was going to be news, he was going to cause a riot, and the gossip most probably would get to the girl behind the mask.

He wanted Ladybug to know that he was here because there was no chance to meet her here. Ladybug was gone but opposite to him, she had let Paris know that she was disappearing.

He wondered if she still lived in the same are. He did not know where exactly but when they divided the patrols they had prioritized their closeness to their homes.

He took a turn to the right, close to  _ Monmatré _ and started his way to do Ladybug’s patrol.

He was fifteen minutes away from the beginning of his route when the smell of sweet perfume and alcohol caught his attention.

In the building in front, there was a celebration of some sorts going on and he didn’t need to go closer to know why those smells had piqued his interest.

The smell of Marinette’s perfume was unmistakable.

She was there, in the balcony of the tallest building, a seventh or eighth floor at most, he couldn’t see her face but he saw the back of her head, that was enough confirmation.

Marinette was holding a glass - Was that white wine? maybe champagne? No, it did not look bubbly enough, definitely white wine-  and she was laughing. Her head back, her chest went up and down, the hair of her ponytail was balancing from side to side when she turned around and he saw her profile.

She bit her lip trying to suppress the laugh, but one of her friends broke in a big laugh and Marinette couldn’t hold it, she was laughing again too.

She was wearing a black long-sleeved dress that hugged her body at all the right places. The girls laughing with her had the same dress in satin red and pearl white, they were bolder, but they did not compare to Marinette. In Adrien’s eyes, no one could.

He couldn’t hear what they were talking about from where he stood, but he could see them taking pictures. Marinette had her phone in hand and was taking pictures of the redhead while she was taking pictures of her and their other friend with a professional camera. He wondered if one of them was the partner Marinette talked about the other day.

The balcony they were in was little, not like the one she had at the top of the bakery. Was this her house or did it belong to one of the other two girls? Whoever it was, it was pretty, and the decor was well executed, there were two white metal chairs and a tall and slim metal table with glass. To decorate there were plants, mostly flowers of different colors and candles were hanging from a bar that connected to the roof that gave a romantic vibe to the balcony. The decoration screamed Marinette, but there was no way to assure it.

Adrien leaned closer to the edge of the roof, avoiding the ruffers so they wouldn't make any weird noises and give him away. He just wanted to look at her better, she was so beautiful, and she looked so happy. One of her hands was playing with the ends of her hair and twisting strands of hair on her index finger. He wanted to do that, run his gloved fingers through her beautiful dark hair and take her hand between his.

He took his baton from his back and opened the screen to look for a map. He knew this was an abuse of his powers and a bit stalker-ish but when the time came he wanted to be able to find her and apologize.

The sound of a glass breaking made him look back at the balcony.

Marinette’s friends were not taking pictures anymore, although they were still laughing. They were kneeling and babbling.

Marinette was still up, her hands were holding the bars of the balcony, she was leaning, and she was looking at him.

Her eyes were wide open, her mouth hanging in the perfect shape of an “O”, it was similar to the look she gave him at their encounter the past month, but there was a new emotion in her and he couldn’t figure it out what it was.

He shouldn’t have let himself get distracted, he wasn’t supposed to be seen.

They shared a look, they were away but the feeling was too intense to not reach each other. Adrien couldn’t tell how long they stared at the other, it felt like forever and at the same time, it hadn’t been enough. Checking Marinette’s friends, he realized it wouldn’t have been longer than a second, they weren’t looking at his direction, they hadn’t realized Marinette wasn’t laughing or paying attention to them anymore.

One thing was being seen by Marinette, the other was being seen for a pair of strangers. Because Marinette could hate him now for all he knew, but he was sure she wasn’t going to tell anyone that she had seen him tonight.

He was lucky that she was still loyal to the friendship they had once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) here was where i left it the last time  
> the three chapters to come are one of my favorite parts in this fic x


	4. what meaning is left to a fallen planet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's late, i came back from a party and i refuse to let the best series i've ever written die.  
> here you have ch. 4, after this one the following chapters have never been posted on ao3.

**_act iv. this is my fate,_ **

**_don’t smile on_ ** **me,** **_light on_ ** **me because**

**_i can’t come to_ ** **you,**

**_there’s no name you can call me._ **

The most dangerous thing a broken person can do is find methods to restore themselves.

Once you’re broken, you can keep shattering and it is not going to be worse than it already is, failure and pain are the norms so nothing disappointing comes out of it. But when you try to put yourself back together and it doesn’t work or the method you chose lifts you up for a second and then twists you and makes you fall again, that is a disaster, it’s free inflicted pain.   

Finding a healthy way to cope with the pain is the hardest part of recovering, and it is not to be taken lightly, not all the methods work for everyone and it’s not easy to get to them when you’re hurt when the only thing you want is an easy and quick solution.

Sadly, recovery is anything but easy and quick. It’s a process, it takes it time and it is not a continuous line, you fall, you get up, take three steps forward, go two back, fall once again, get up one more time, until you finally reach your first goal. It never gets easier, but it becomes a part of your life, it’s routine, and you start to see the logic on it, things stop being so emotional and you can see the bigger picture.

Adrien was happy that he had not fallen into the depths of despair and had been smart enough to go to a therapist the moment he realized he was craving unhealthy solutions that could have to take him to serious addictions and at the end, more pain.

He couldn’t tell what moved him to it, what part of his mind had taken control over his whole being and guided him in that direction. Whatever it was, he was glad. Some days more than others.

Today was one of those days.

It was late at night, he couldn’t see the Eiffel Tower from his apartment but it’s lights were probably off by now. He smiled, the less light there was, better for him.

Hiding in the shadows was easy, but it had been easier before, he had lost practice and he did not remember the rooftops as well as he thought he would. Also, he was trying to be more careful after the incident with Marinette.

If Marinette had been haunting him before, after locking his sight with her those four weeks ago, it was only worse. She occupied every corner of his mind, every part of his day was filled with the thought of her.

He had found his escape in the rooftops, just like when he was younger and less broken that he was right now.

He was lying on the rooftop of the Hôtel Ritz of Place Vendôme, not because he liked it there, actually he did not see the magic of the place at all, but because it was far away of Marinette’s apartment -or her friends’ apartment, he still had to figure that out- and if he was around the neighborhood he would most likely try to visit her, and he could not do that.

But he was so, so bored there. There was nothing entertaining going on, and it was a Friday night. What was wrong with Parisians today? Or was that he had grown accustomed to the always crowded Spanish streets? Maybe running around Place Vendôme was not trendy anymore, or maybe he was getting old and making no sense, because now that he remembered Place Vendôme was in no way a trendy place for drunk people, it was the trendy place for rich people that wanted to be seen and did not mind to spend the amount of someone’s salary on a few drinks, and rich people like that were not fun at all.

He sighed. He really was losing his mind.

He stood up and started jumping around the roof, then he started jogging and finally he ran from one rooftop to another. If he was wishing to watch people have fun and laugh a little, he would have to go to Bastille, if his memory was not failing him there were a few pubs and bars around that were worth it.

Once he landed on his destination, he decided it was time to say goodbye to Chat Noir and be Adrien once again.

He dropped his transformation on a dark corner of an ally. He had been transforming and de-transforming so many times that month that he had perfected the technique of ignoring Plagg, and taking him back to the ring as fast as he could. That didn’t make it any easier or less painful. When he made sure his ring was safe in the box, inside the pocket of his jacket,  he made his way down the street, looking for a bar that would be of his like.

He passed by the windows of a restaurant and watched his reflection. His hair was a mess, it was like a bird had landed on it and tried to make a nest, he looked more like his superhero persona than he ever before. He wondered how his hair managed to get so tangled when it was so short.

He tried to fix it, brushing it with his fingers and trying to style it, but it was useless, there was nothing left to do but hope that no one would make a comment about it.

He took a look at his phone, checking the time. It was already two am in the morning. Time flew fast, he had no idea it was so late already. He wondered if he was going to be able to find a place with a good atmosphere and not overcrowded.

As he adventured more in the neighborhood, and the streets turned brighter and louder, more young people started to appear, running around, singing, dancing and drinking. Yes, this was the environment he was looking for. It had been so long since he had been part of Paris nightlife that he had started missing it.

He did not have friends to share it with, so he would have to settle with watching.

He imagined things would be completely different if he had the courage to talk to his friends. Because a part of him, as frightened as he was, had hope, and that hopeful part of him believed that Nino was going to forgive him.

Maybe things were not going to be like they always were, but he knew Nino was going to try to reconnect with him. So if he wasn’t a scaredy cat, he could be here with Nino, having some drinks and engaging into a simple but fun conversation.

Or maybe, if he had an ounce of bravery, he would be here with Marinette after apologizing for his rudeness and trying to compensate his rejection by inviting her here.

Right now, he really wished for Marinette to be here, he really missed her to death.

He walked a few more blocks, changing streets to look at places that looked fun, trying to decide what he was up to. When he was turning back, to a bar he had discarded at first but now sounded like a good option, the chime of a familiar laugh caught his attention.

He knew who she was before he turned around to see her. He could never mistake her for any other person.

Adrien sighed. The forces of destiny were bittersweet.

He wished for her to be there, and there she was and also were all his problems.

He had not expected her to be as close as she was, because her laugh had sounded so distant but she was only a few steps away, hanging in the middle of the same two girls he had seen with her that night in her balcony.

Marinette was laughing as she hugged one lamppost, she was trying her best to stand still.

_ Marinette, Marinette, Marinette. _

How did she manage to stay so beautiful l even when she was a mess of a drunk?

Because of his recent transformations, some of his old enhanced senses had come back, so he easily smells of alcohol surrounding her. Something with cherries, something sweet, but very liquorish. If Marinette’s drinking habits were still the same, she was still a lightweight.

Why was she alone? She was drunk and it was late, she was not supposed to be alone.

Adrien forgot all about his problems, all about the fears he had and he walked towards Marinette.

“Mari,” He called her name as soft as he could, so he wouldn’t startle her.

She turned around, spinning on her heels and opened her mind in surprise when she found him

“You,” She said and pointed at him, her finger came really close to his face, almost touching his nose.

Adrien looked at her face, trying to read her expression. And there she was, as pretty as lethal and, oh, the look she was giving at him, had it been knives, he would be bleeding on the floor right now.

She was intimidating, with her narrowed big blue eyes and the way she stood, the energy she emitted. She was like freaking Wonder Woman about to go to the battlefield.

“Mari…” He whispered. He was not ready to hear what she was about to say. He could see in her eyes that it was nothing good. This was he had been fearing for two months.

“Whatdoyouthinkyouaredoing?” Marinette ran over her words, it was almost inaudible, but Adrien had treated with a drunk Marinette before.

“Wa… walking?” He said, but it sounded more like a question.  

“Like thaaaaat?” Marinette jiggled her hands in front of him, drawing the figure of his body. The content of her glass spilling on the pavement.

Adrien looked down, he checked his shoes and then his outfit. Was there something wrong with him? Did he look bad? Was Marinette judging his fashion sense?

“Uh…”

“Ah!”

Adrien flinched at the scream, she looked angry and scarier than before. What was he supposed to do? He did not understand what she wanted.

Marinette took a step forward, almost losing her balance.

Adrien took a glance at her shoes.

She was wearing the tallest high heels he had ever seen her use. Shoes like these ones were not made for the clumsy girl he knew, why was she wearing them?

“Hey!” Marinette clapped her hands on top of his chest. Adrien’s eyes went back to hers.

“Marinette are you with your friends?” He asked. He had never seen her like this. She couldn’t be alone, right?

Marinette ignored him. She closed her eyes, she stood straight, she lifted her chin and then opened her eyes again, staring at him.

“I.wanna.go.home,” Marinette marked every word carefully. “Taxi.”

“You’re too drunk for a taxi, Marinette,” He gasped. He was glad he had noticed her, who knows what could have happened if she took a taxi at this hour. What kind of friends did she have? There was no chance she was here alone, right?

Marinette didn’t answer, she just kept staring at him. She tilted her head to one side, then to the other one. A smirk appeared on the corner of her mouth and it turned into a big smile.

“It’s you,” Marinette whispered, letting her body fall against Adrien’s, and wrapping her arms around his waist.

From all the things he expected her to say or do, this was not one of them. The initial surprise did not let him react. His body was stiff and his eyes were wide open, but once his brain was able to process the situation, a warm rush of energy ran through his body and he hugged her back.

“Are you cold?” Adrien asked. He didn’t need an answer. While he held her he could feel that she was trembling, and the sleeveless dress she was wearing was not doing much for her. Why was she so careless? It was freezing, she should have brought a jacket.

“Home,” Marinette said and repeated it a few more times, “I. want. my. bed,”

Adrien giggled. He brushed her hair out of her face and smiled at her lovely pout.

“Alright, I’m taking you home,” He said, “C’mon, let’s walk to a bigger street and see what we can do,”

He crossed one arm on her waist, and he lifted her from her knees, carrying her princess style.

“Aw,” Marinette whispered and crossed her hands around his neck, getting comfortable.

Adrien’s heart gave a little jump. He had been so scared of seeing her again, playing scenarios in his mind and none of those horrible situations were happening. He should have known better, he should have known  _ Marinette _ .

Marinette stayed quiet, at the edge of falling asleep once again as he walked back to the principal roundabout because the chances of getting a cab where they were were slim.

When they arrived, Adrien put Marinette back in the ground and walked her to the closest bench, that turned to be a bus stop.

Adrien looked at the digital watch displaying the times of the buses. It was too late and at the same too early for any bus to come around, so that idea was discarded pretty quickly. Also, the metro would not be open until 6 o’clock, so another no.

Adrien looked around. No taxis were going around at this time of the night, you would have to call one, or maybe use some phone app to get a driver. He could do that, but he didn’t bring his wallet so there was no way to pay it and he was not about to ask Marinette for money.

Another option was to walk, but Marinette was in no condition to make the trip. He was strong, but he was not going to be able to walk with her on his arms all the way to Monmatré. He was only a regular human.

A thought sparked on his mind. Actually, there were times when he was  _ more  _ than just a regular human.

Adrien smirked. He looked at Marinette, she was leaning against the glass wall of the bus stop, eyes closed, but not asleep.

He needed to do this quick, he couldn’t leave her alone for too long, it was dangerous.

“I’ll be back in a sec, Mari,” He announced and ran to the first dark spot he found close by.

He sat in the ground and took the box out of his pocket. He inhaled sharply, it was always harder to make Plagg transform him that it was to order him to go back in the ring. Also, he had not given him any food afterward. Giving Plagg food was another very difficult thing to do but that he had to get the hang out of it after a few weeks.

He opened the box and took the ring, he saw the bright green light and got ready.

“ **_KID!_ ** ” Adrien heard the rage on his voice, but as always, he did not let him finish and before he could drop any tears, he was transformed.

He ran back to the bus stop, Marinette was still there in the same position, and there were no uninvited strangers around.

He was ready and by how drunk Marinette was, he doubted she was going to notice the sudden change between Adrien and Chat Noir. However, maybe she would reject his offer to take her home.

“Marinette,” He whispered, poking her shoulder.

“I’mwake,” She said, putting her hands in the air.

Adrien chuckled.

“Okay, okay. Still, want to go home?” He asked, waiting for her to look at him and say something.

“Yes, home,” She nodded. She rubbed her eyes and finally opened them.

Adrien waited for her reaction but nothing happened, Marinette did not show any new emotion, no surprise, no rage, no sadness. Nothing at all.  

“Alright, for that I need to know where you live,”

Marinette’s eyes went wide just for her to narrow them again.

“You. know. where.” She crossed her arms against her chest, “I. saw. you. ontheroof,”

Oh, so the apartment was hers. He was happy to have guessed right, after all this time he still knew her, or at least her style.

Marinette was falling asleep on his arms, her state of mind was drowning in rosé bubbles and her body was giving up. Soon she would be wide awake if things remained the same as he remembered, so it was better if he took her home now, then he would make a fast escapade and she would not remember a thing.

Running and hiding on rooftops was harder with Marinette on his arms. He couldn’t go through the same places he did when he was alone because that would hurt her, and the flashy dress she was wearing was not black or subtle, she meant to call attention.

Nonetheless, he landed on Marinette’s balcony without mishaps.

The glass window was easy to open with his claws and he stepped inside of the apartment.

It was tiny but cozy, it had her essence all over it and it was kind of a mess, there were fabrics all around the place, rolls of thread on the floor and the walls were covered on papers of all kinds with sketches on it.

It was an open space, only the bathroom, and the kitchen seemed to be through doors, so it was easy to find Marinette’s, undone, bed.

Adrien placed her on top of the bed, he lifted her arms and legs and tried to arrange her body in a comfortable sleeping position. He took the sheets, shook them and then covered her with them.

He ducked his head and left a kiss on Marinette’s forehead.

“ _ Bonne nuit, mon princesse,” _

It felt good to call her that out loud after so long.

He stared at her for a long time before he decided it was time to go.

Making sure she wasn’t going to asphyxiate in her sleep, he turned her head to the side and spun on his heels, ready to walk away.

Marinette had other plans.

Her hand wrapped around his wrist, impeding his walk.

“Chat,” He should go, he shouldn't turn around, he should jerk out of her grasp, but her voice was begging for him and he couldn’t help but give her what she wanted.

He rose a brow, directing her to speak.

“People. are. still. angry. at. you,” Marinette marked every word carefully, and each word was like a stab to Adrien.

There it was. Marinette was being honest, and she was angry.

It had taken him to change into Chat Noir to finally hear what he feared to hear.

“I know,” He answered, looking away from her.

“Why?” Marinette asked. She stood up on the bed, aligning her sight with his.  She cupped his cheeks with her hands and turned his head to her, “Why, Chat?”

“People don’t like traitors, princess,”  _ Neither do you. _

“No, no, no, no,” Marinette shook her head.

Marinette dropped her hands on top of his chest and gave a little hit with her fist.

Her body started trembling and she let out a tiny sob.

“Marinette,” He whispered. He brushed the pieces of hair that were falling in front of her face, and he stroke her cheek with his thumb, making sure his claws wouldn’t touch her.

Marinette looked up, black tears were streaming down her face. She lifted an accusative finger and pointed at him. “You. never. visited. again.  _ Why? _ ”

That’s what she meant before? Why he had not visited before? He did not think it was possible for her to forget how things had ended between them, the things they said were engraved on his mind, the pain still made his skin crawl.

“I left France, princess,”  _ You didn’t want me. _

“ _ Minou _ !” She sobbed louder, her body was shaking more, and Adrien was not sure how to calm her down.

Marinette hid her face behind her hands, she did not move away, so neither did Adrien. He did not say a word, she was the one who had to guide this conversation, he owed her that. He waited until her crying calmed down until she was able to look at him again.

Her cheeks were stained with blush and mascara and her eyes were red and inflamed. He did not like that look on her, she was hurting, and it was noticeable. She was hurting, and it was his fault.

“Did it help?” Marinette whispered, reaching for him but not touching him at the end. After a long silence, she spoke again, “Leaving France… did it help?”

“I like to believe it did,” He answered. He couldn’t say that leaving had resolved all his problems, but he was not in a dark hole anymore, so yeah, leaving his hometown and all the pain behind, had helped him.

“I’m glad,” The corners of her mouth lifted, but her lips trembled, and she wasn’t able to keep the smile for long, “I wish you had visited me again. I’ve missed you,”

Adrien couldn’t help but laugh, however the sadness that sound carried was unmistakable.

“You don’t mean that, princess,” He said, “You’re drunk, you’re confused,”

“No!” Marinette lifted her chin and stared at him with a defiant look in her eyes, “I might be drunk, but there’s no confusion, don’t say things you don’t know, don’t dismiss my feelings so easily, -” Marinette’s voice cracked, “-I’ve missed you all these years, there is no day I don’t think about you. Sometimes I’m not able to sleep because you’re the only thing on my mind and I wonder where you could be, what could you be doing or if you are okay, and I never had a concrete answer. It hurts to miss you,  _ chaton _ ”

“Marinette,” He sighed.  _ I’m not worth it. I don’t deserve that. _

He wanted to say the words but there was no use in that, Marinette was drunk and emotional, whatever he said, even the truth, was not going to resonate with her, it was better if he left.

“I’m sorry,” He said because he couldn’t leave without saying at least that, “Sleep well, princess,” He kissed her forehead again, and took a step back, separating himself from her.

Marinette was quick, and grasped his hand, not letting him go.

“No, don’t go. Don’t leave again.” Marinette said, new tears were appearing in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Nette, it’s for the best, I promise,” He took her hand and pushed her away as soft as he could but effectively, so she wouldn’t be able to touch him again.

He ran to the window and jumped to the rail of the balcony, watching around for the best rooftop to land and run away.

“Chat! Please,” Marinette’s steps were fast, and she reached the balcony in record time, but Adrien was faster and jumped to the roof of the building in front of them.

Marinette appeared on her balcony, she grabbed the rail and leaned over the edge.

“Please! Come back!” Marinette begged, “ _ Please,”  _ The agony in her voice cracked his heart.  

But Adrien did not change his mind.

He left.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fill my soul with angst c:
> 
>  
> 
> tumblr: buginettez  
> og sotries: camiescribbles


	5. without a name to myself, i still revolve around you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here we go with chapters i've never posted before :)

**_act v. you know that i can’t show you_ ** **me** **_,_ **

**_give you_ ** **me**

**_i can’t show you my weakness_ **

**_so i wear a mask to go see you_ **

Adrien’s life was as bitter as the coffee he was drinking that morning.

The article he had been trying to write was not working out for him. How many times could he type, erase, type again and go back to erasing in a period of twenty minutes? And all to stare back at a blank page at the end of the frustrating routine.

He took the notebook with the notes and information he needed and read through them for the third time in the sole period of a minute, looking for a trigger to set up his inspiration and get a good opening line that he could then follow as inspiration to finish the piece.

Whatever he did it was useless, yet this was his job, he couldn’t let personal feelings interfere with his professional life, so any idea he got, he did.

Nonetheless, to try to brush aside all the bottled emotions threatening to burst and burn like fireworks in a forest was more damaging than dealing with them.

Marinette’s words were echoing on his mind. The whole night was playing like an old movie with a sepia filter, with all the camera angles pointing at the expression Marinette, had displayed.

Why would Marinette miss him? What had changed?

He remembered the break of their relationship, it was something that he preferred not to bring back to the front of his mind because it hurt too much, and he had no one else to blame but himself.

His betrayal was the reason why Marinette decided to break ties with him. His horrible and tragic mistake was the reason why Marinette had not wanted to see him ever again.

Before all went down with his father and before he chose to change sides, he had a plan, a plan that involved him, Marinette and a confession. But all of that turned into dust and he was never able to say the most famous three words.

Adrien was not sure if it was because he had never had closure or because it was inevitable to not be in love with someone like Marinette, but he had never loved a person as he loved her.

He had dated a few girls in Madrid and had one stable relationship for a while, but it was not the same. He never felt that carefree sensation, that warm and soothing emotion that Marinette gave him that no one else could give. No matter how hard he tried to look for it, he never found it.

At first, he tried to look for her in every girl he met, and then he dated girls that were everything she was not. Whoever he chose, he was never happy with what he got.

What his heart wanted was Marinette. His mind knew that was a pipe dream and did the craziest acrobatics to remind him that daily.

But last night… after last night it was a possibility. It could be minimal, but before last night it was impossible, today it was difficult, but that brought more hope than any other thing could.

She had asked him to  _ stay. _ She missed  _ him _ .

He missed her too. He understood her words perfectly because it hurt to miss her, it always had.  

Realizing his work was going nowhere, he put down the notebook and closed the laptop. The journalist had reached his limit, he would work on that piece once his mind was clear, it was better to wait and let the words to appear than to obligate himself write something and then hate it, he would end up with a blank page again.  

He felt thirsty and walked to the kitchen, he took a mug and poured it water from the tap on it.

Switching his weight, he leaned on the counter. His vision dropped on the box and the ring on the other side of the room. Objects that had a little god chained behind a kitchen door.

Adrien rolled the watch on his wrist, it had been more than an hour since he put Plagg inside, he should be over by now.

He had bought a couple of very expensive cheeses, it was the only way he could apologize to him, he hoped he liked it.

Drinking the last sip of water from the mug, he decided it was time to bring the kwami back to his ring.

Adrien opened the door of the cabinet with the ring in its box, ready to catch Plagg and silence him before he could open his mouth.

This time it was different.

Plagg didn’t put up a fight, he gave a bite to the piece of cheese he was holding and gave an icy look towards Adrien.

He gulped, it was worse to see a quiet and disappointed Plagg than a screaming angry one.

“Are you still hungry?”

Plagg opened his eyes wide and in less than a second narrowed them again. He turned his head back to his cheese and gulped the last piece. He clashed his tiny hands together and flew out of the cabinet. He touched the ring and was sucked by the magic, leaving his owner alone.

Adrien sighed. Whatever this attitude meant, it only enforced what he already knew. He had lost him too.

**_xx_ **

The showcase of the boutique had the lights on, while the rest of the store remained in the darkness, just like he did. Hidden between the shadows of the upfront building, he saw the owner lock the front door, save the key on her bag and walk down the stairs of the front side.

This was the third night he visited, and he could see the change of the store. As winter approached, so did the holidays and the streets of Paris, as well as the shop windows, were peppering their decorations and concepts. The beiges and blues of the city welcomed the red and green, and in case of Marinette’s shop, the pink intertwined with white, green and gold.

He smiled, he couldn’t expect red to flash on her shop to collapse with the pink, because as much as Marinette liked the two colors, she never mixed them together, she did not like the combination.

Like a real stalker, Adrien followed Marinette back home, or well, he followed the bus and the metro route she used to get back at her building.

Tonight, she was alone. The past days she went back home accompanied by two of her friends, the same ones he had seen on her terrace before.

He had not seen Alya, which was strange because, for all he could remember, Marinette and Alya used to be stuck with glue, their friendship looked indestructible. He hoped it remained the same, even with the lack of appearances of the sassy journalist. Marinette had named Alya when they met in his civilian self, it was probably just adult life interfering, they were both independent and thriving in their professional worlds, they lacked time to meet.

Standing on the building at the lateral from hers, Adrien saw the room illuminate and behind the pastel curtains, she saw her shadow dance through the apartment.

He heard pots clashing, the sink dripping, and Marinette humming.

They were mundane sounds that made him feel at ease. It was the power Marinette had over him, there were meters of distance between them, but it was enough, it was like the brush of a feather against his cheek and not the warm caress he remembered, but it did the job.

He wondered for the fifth time that month why he couldn’t approach her, why did he watched her and waited for a miracle to bring them together, and why did he make more efforts in costume than he did as a civilian.

As Adrien it would be easier to talk to her, it  _ should  _ be easier.

As Adrien he was a victim, he could be forgiven, he could be excused. He knew this, it was one of the reasons why it was so hard to apologize. He didn’t want to be seen as a victim because he wasn’t. He was a villain and should be treated as such.

As Chat Noir he was a traitor, he was  _ the  _ villain. If he put all his cards on the table as Chat and Marinette still wanted something to do with him then Adrien’s apology would be more heartfelt, and the forgiveness would come from a place where lies did not exist.

The honk of a car and the chirp of its wheels resonated in the night.

Adrien looked down, made sure no accident had occurred and that they were all safe and sound. If they weren’t, he could not know what his next move would be, and he wished he would never have to see it. The high-pitched sound did not only call his attention.

Marinette slid the door-window open, stepped outside and leaned on the rails of the balcony to see down to the street.

Adrien held his breath, she was not being careful, and she was so high. He stood up and watch her moves with caution, getting ready if he had to move fast.

But he was exaggerating, Marinette came back to the ground a second later, entering her flat only to come back to the outside seconds later, this time with a sketchbook and a pencil case in one hand, a bottle of wine and a drinking glass in the other.

Adrien huffed. A bold move to carry so many delicate objects in one hand when she was extremely clumsy.

He rested his head on his hand and watched her as she began a routine that he knew by memory now, the only difference was the glass of wine, years ago it had been a cup of coffee or hot chocolate.

Marinette sat on the chair next to the window and sketched for long minutes. Her sight was on the paper like it was the only thing it existed, the only time she shifted her sight was when she refilled her glass (two times now).

With his good sense, he could be able to see the sketch if he tried but he decided he was invading her privacy enough already.

After what he guessed could have been forty minutes, Marinette left the sketchpad on top of the table and pushed it away. She rubbed her temples and refilled the glass one more time, but this time she did not drink.

In her hands, the glass of wine was probably warming up with her body heat, but she did not seem worried about it.

Her sight was lost in the clouded sky, and the moonlight that managed to leak through hit her skin and made it glow.

His body melt at the sight and leaned on the brick wall of the pipes to not roll and fall of the rooftop.

She rolled the glass with one hand and smelled the wine, a cheery smile popped on her lips and her cheeks colored with the same soft pink of the beverage. The designer crossed her arms in front of her chest and walked to the edge of the terrace.

Her eyes shifted around the rooftops until they stopped in what to anyone else would be an empty point in the horizon, but she was not everyone and she choose that exact point could not be a coincidence.

If he moved a few centimeters her sight would crash with his.

Marinette  _ knew _ he was there.

He threw his head back and sighed, his heart beat against his chest in loud bangs, his whole body shook in response.

Before he could regret it, that little drop of bravery that found its way inside of him made him jump away of the darkness, reaching Marinette’s building.

Chat Noir held on to a water pipeline between Marinette’s balcony and the one of the apartment next door. The city lights and the moonlight fell only partially, so only Marinette would be able to see him.

“Salute,” Marinette said before he could start talking. She was still looking where he had been and did not turn her body to him.

“Salute.” He said giving a military greeting but with two fingers, hoping she would see it anyways.

The shadow of a smile appeared on her lips, her head fell, and she closed her eyes, shaking her head from side to side as she repressed a laugh, making him feel like he was sixteen years old all over again.

His love for her had not been immediate, it had grown and developed with each visit, but watching her now, seeing the way her lips curled, how her eyes shone with confidence, it was hard to believe that he hadn’t fall for her right at the moment his eyes caught her face.

But the past was the past, and the present was happening, and he was gifted with the revelation that he was falling for her all over again. Just with  _ that  _ look.

“I…”

“Came back,” Marinette said, “I was hoping you would.”

_ Hoping, _ she had been hoping he would come back. She had been thinking about him too.

Spinning on her heels Marinette went back to the table, she took the bottle on top of it and the liquid inside of it made a splash sound.

“Rosé?” She rose a brow, finally meeting his gaze.

“I don’t think I should,”

“Oh yeah, running on the rooftops and drinking doesn’t sound like the smartest thing to do,”

“Exactly.” He nodded.

Marinette sat on the edge of the table and looked at him as she sipped on the glass. Her eyes shone bluer with the reflection of the lights on the crystal cup, they were fixated on him. Was she judging him or expecting to say something? He forgot how their encounters had to go.

“Would that be all?” Marinette inclined her head and held the glass away from her.

“No.” He whispered but he had nothing else to say prepared.

Marinette hummed and chewed her lower lip.

Adrien had to come up with something to talk about or this awkward reunion would be over soon. This was his chance to fix things between them, this was the instance he so desperately had been waiting for.

“How did you know I was there?” He asked, genuine curiosity leaked in his words.

“I did not,” Marinette admitted and walked near him, “For the past weeks I’ve been studying the rooftops and I’ve been waiting for you. Tonight, the darkest rooftop was the one I looked. You don’t want to be seen, so I imagined, I  _ hoped _ , you would be there.

“Smart as always.” He gifted her a gentle smile, “How did you know I was going to come back?”

“Again, I did not know _. _ I only wished you did.”

“An odd wish,”

“I wouldn’t categorize it as odd. I only wanted to see an old friend, I’ll say it’s fairly common,”

“Leave it to you to call a traitor your friend,” He whispered.

Marinette’s shoulders released the tension they were holding. She left the glass on top of one of the ledges on the wall and closed the distance between them. Her hands grabbed the rail tightly and she leaned into him, his nose almost brushing his nose, forcing him to look at her.

“I stand here with open arms. If you want to be back in my life you’re more than welcome but you must be sure that you’re ready to restore our relationship. If you’re still unsure you can leave and get your time to think about it because I refuse to get my heart broken, and it will break if you decide to leap away.” She answered questions that he had not asked but that have been fluctuating in the air. Marinette lost no time, she knew what she wanted, and she was giving him her terms.

“I never meant to break your heart, princess,” He whispered.

Adrien never meant to break anything, but it appeared to be that breaking things, no, breaking  _ people _ , was a talent of his.

“But you did break it. Many times, now.” She said and looked down.

Adrien couldn’t resist the urge to hold her, to pull her together. Her eyes were watering and her body was stiff, the fake smile she was trying to pull couldn’t mask that.

He put his hands-on top of the rail and crossed one leg then the other over it. Marinette took a step back, giving him more space. When he touched the greyish tiles of the balcony, he did not hold it any longer. Adrien wrapped one arm around Marinette’s waist and pulled her to his body, the other hand rested on the back of her head, brushing her hair. He hid his face on the crook of her neck and nuzzled his nose against the silky skin of the girl.

She received the hug euphorically, sinking her fingers on his hair and tightening her hold around him.

“You are freezing,” Marinette whispered on his ear.

“I’ve been out for a few hours now,”

“Would a cup of coffee fix that?”

“Yes,” He smiled against her cheek.

“Do you still take it the same?”

“Do you still make it the same?”

“Yes.”

Marinette took one step back when she let go of the hug, but they remained close still.

“Let’s go inside, it’s warmer there.”

**_xx_ **

Adrien watched as Marinette let her hair loose of the ponytail it had been on and ruffled a bit. When she caught him staring, he looked down and plastered his eyes on the coffee cup he held between his gloved hands.

They had chatted superficially as she made him coffee. She told him things that he had already heard as Adrien, others that he had seen on the internet and her social medias. But it was nice to listen to them, her voice was alluring and by sharing her life, it assured him that she wanted him around.

Her apartment smelled like cinnamon, melted butter and sugar, it was like she had brought the bakery scent with her.

“Stop sniffing,” Marinette giggled as she sat next to him on the carpet, pressing her back against the couch behind them.

“It smells nice, did you bake by any chance?” He had not seen her do it, but she could have done it earlier that day.

“No, but my parents send me a box with pastries every morning,” By tilting her head, Marinette pointed at the counter in the kitchen.

“Ah…”

Then they fell into the awkward silence again.

Adrien swirled the tip of his claws on the greyish carpet they were sitting on, ruffling the texture of it and making a rhythm as he scratched.

Marinette had closed the door behind her, so the chilly air would not get in, but the warm room was awfully cold.

He looked up only to catch her glancing at him. The distant connection was not broken, staring into each other's eyes, they were waiting for one of them to bring the heavy subjects afloat.

Should he wait and let her talk? Should he talk and apologize immediately? What was the right thing to do? How had it been that time he stumbled with her in the gardens? It had been awkward, but they talked, he just couldn’t remember how they broke through the uncomfortable silence.

Marinette had already held the leadership of the filler conversation, now it was his time to talk and he would not feel comfortable talking to her if he did not understand the relationship he was allowed to have with her. How much of their bond still existed? How broken it was and how much he had to do to fix it completely? Could he completely fix it?

“Why?” He asked, reaching for her hand but not taking it, “Better said, how?”

If he had to explain out loud what he meant, he would break. Adrien had recognized his past, but he still needed to make peace with it. This trip was one of the steps into that path.

Luckily, Marinette answered without inquiring any further into his thoughts.

“I missed you.”

“That’s not reason enough, Nette.”

“It will be for now,” Marinette said with a smile, masking the poisoning order.

As lovely as it was to be beside her, the physical closeness wasn’t stronger than the mental and emotional barrier upright between them.

Adrien knew that missing someone wasn’t equivalent to forgiving someone. After everything he did, as unforgivable as it was, he missed his father every day.

The scents of rosé and coffee mixed together in the air giving a new whole setting to the atmosphere, a new adult facet that he never knew he would be able to have with her. The inherent sadness and hurt of his betrayal did play a big role on turning what could be a lovely moment between friends into a conversation that sounded like a symphony of rifting hearts.

“I worked on it.” Marinette said breaking the silence “I made peace with my feelings and I ordered my thoughts. It wasn’t easy, it did not happen randomly, it took me time. But, I  _ wanted _ to forgive you.”

“But I haven’t earned your forgiveness.”

Marinette opened her mouth, but the words died down before they could reach the surface. It was obvious that his statement took her by surprise, that she never considered it. That just showed she had not changed a bit, she still did more than she ever had to do, more than anyone deserved, and saw the best on everyone even if there was not a sprinkle of it inside.  

The beginning of her words came in a stutter, but then the confidence she always waved like a flag crawled into them, “Do you want to earn it?”

“With every piece of my being,”

Marinette smiled, the softness of her feature enhanced. “How melodramatic, how you.”

“It is the honest truth.”

“Well, as you may know, I like honesty.” She pressed the cup of wine against her lips, but she did not drink, “But I’m not pressuring you to spill all your feelings and untold stories right away. We, together and individually, have stuff to figure it out if we want this to work, but you must know that we all have shadows looking over us and throwing obstacles in our path, not all saints have done only good things.”

“Wha--

“Make of it what you want. I won’t hold it against you.”

“You have changed,” He said, the words she said were engraved in his mind, breaking walls and crashing down. The confusing spiral set down on his heart like a cold breeze, but the warmness of her smile melted down the ice that threatened to appear.  “However, your heart stills remain the same, princess.”

“Well, I don’t think people ever fully change, we mature and evolve but our essence stays still. Change is not in black and white, there are grey areas, there will always be a part of the past in someone’s present.” She sighed, “That’s why I can still see you as my beloved friend. I know he is in there, even after all the damage,”

“Well, I’m still devilishly gorgeous. I hope that counts.” He tried to bring humor back, something that had trademarked his personality years back.

Marinette laughed with her whole body. She threw back her head, put a hand over her stomach and rolled to the sides. Her eyes closed, and her nose wrinkled, she covered her mouth with her free hand and tried to muffle the sounds, but it still echoed in the whole room.

At that moment Adrien thought that maybe not everything was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bitch i love this story so much!!!  
> just wanted to say that lol
> 
> find me on tumblr: buginettez


	6. i once belonged in a world under the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> party times.

**_act vi. a flower that resembles you blossomed_ **

**_in this garden of loneliness_ **

**_i want to give it to you, after taking off this foolish mask._ **

Life changed after that night, a slow turn into the right direction, and Adrien did not expect anything else but that. 

There was still a heavy past contemplating him from above and pouring its shadow all over him, but with her in his life light leaked through the racks and he let it in, let it flow like a shower of happiness to clean away the sin.

His nights were better and brighter and that made his days more bearable too. Paris was not as frightening as it had been all those months before and he did not spend the majority of his time indoors.

For years, Adrien had been like a ship in the night, he had seen the shores from afar and he got orders from a distant voice that never had time to reunite with him. Like any other ship, he had been on harbors, he had known more than water and rain, but it always came back to the same, his destiny was to be in the middle of the ocean, apart from anyone else. And like any ship in the ocean, he faced fatal faiths.

After the weather turns into a sentence of death, with thunderstorms blowing lightings and turning waves into monsters, crashing and rolling and disappearing only to end up stranded on an island. Away from the ocean, away from the pain, but still all alone and with a view of the ocean, because it is impossible for it to go away, it surrounds you.

On an island, you can adapt to any physical obstacle that’s thrown at you, but there is one thing that you can’t brush away, and that’s loneliness. Loneliness overcomes you.

Adrien had been stranded on an island for far too long, even when he found a way to escape from it, find new harbor and made his way back to his origin, he never went back home. His body would be in the familiar streets, walls and ash clouds, but he would always be trapped on the island.

Marinette made him feel like all of that didn’t matter, and that helped him tie some knots that were lying around and dulling his path.

This was the seventh night Adrien spent in her company.

They had not seen each other every day after talking, and the holidays had meddled, making it impossible to see each other, but he came to visit her today.  It was a given that he would be there tonight. Marinette was getting ready for an important event in her store and she needed to stay awake to finish the embroidery of a few dresses and blouses.

Her friends and business partners had been with her, finishing up the last touches of the biggest and most important pieces of the collection, for the past four days, but they were back on their apartments dealing with their own designs tonight, just like Marinette was.

Without anyone around, he had a free pass to visit her.

While Marinette dug her needle on satin clothes and delicate ornaments, Chat was in charge of providing coffee and a good conversation.

The stove was on and only the studio lights around Marinette’s work zone were on, the designer had a ritual and a way of working and this was it. Chat Noir moved around the apartment like an actual cat, slow and precise steps, soundless shifting and glances that went undetected.

Marinette was fighting to keep her eyes open as he rambled about the new TV show he started watching on Netflix. He was aware that his conversation was not the most entertaining, but he ran out of other topics to talk about. That was not  _ entirely _ true, he still had a thousand if not a million stories to tell her, but they were all too personal and gave away too many details about himself, and he was not ready to give up his secret identity, not yet.

Adrien wanted to fix his bond with Marinette as much as he could before doing something that could break it again. If he managed to gain back the same trust they shared before, revealing who he was would be easier for both.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t let Marinette fall asleep and he knew that if he started talking about more personal stuff that would catch her attention. It would be as useful as a slap or throwing a bucket of water on her to keep her awake.

She was expecting for him to open up, it was all over her face, whenever he spoke there was a spark of hope in her eyes and he always disappointed her.

“Nette.”

“Uh?”

“I need to admit something…”

“I’m all ears,”

“I lied to you. I didn’t leave for the holidays.” He sighed, the true rolling on his tongue like piercing needles. “This was the first Christmas I’ve spent in Paris in eight years.”

Marinette perked up, her eyes opened wide, like the two spotlights on top of her, and her lips quivered.

“I usually escape as far as I can when the holiday time arrives,” He coughed, a knot tied on his throat making it hard to talk, “I don’t think my birthday counts as a holiday, and I’ve only been celebrating it for three years now, because my friends at work drag me for drinks and dinner every year but I would skip it too if I didn’t have to work. I think if they knew I spend Christmas traveling and hidden in the hotel room of the city I decided to escape to that year, they would drag me to celebrate with them too… but I always run away, I don’t like being home for holidays.”

“Home as in…

“As in the new city I’m living in and as in Paris too,” He completed, “I don’t have any family to celebrate with and I don’t want to be a nuisance to anyone. Christmas depresses me, I lock down and cry or scream, sometimes I hit things and destroy hotel rooms and I’m ashamed of myself the next morning, so I spend the whole day cleaning and paying and asking for forgiveness… it is worse when… when…”  _ When he calls _ .

His body was rigid, but his hands were shaking, matching his voice. The tremble reached his heart and soul, the bitter taste of his past pooled on the back of his mouth and it ran like poison on his tongue, he was unable to produce any more words.

Marinette stopped working and looked at him. She looked disappointed but not in him, there was a darkness in her eyes that could not be decoded, a shadow that ran and soaked the intentions of the thoughts that arose on her sight.

“Why did you stay? If it is so hard…” She asked in a tiny voice.

“I’ve been in many battles, I know they only have an end when you fight them when you take action. Escaping never helps, you have to face monsters and fight them, or they will never go away. I was finally ready to do that.”

“Alone?” Marinette asked, choking on the word.

“Alone.” He nodded.

She looked down and gasped so loud he was sure it echoed in the whole room. She dropped the needle and thread she was holding before, and her hands moved right on top of her face, muffling the sobs that were coming out of her mouth and making her whole body tremble.

“Marinette,”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have spent time with you!”

“No, no, no,” He kneeled down, he lifted her chin and caught her sight with his. Tears were falling down, gleaming and matching the sequins of her dresses. “You spend Christmas with family, Marinette, I was not going to drag you to spend it with me. And this is not why I am telling you this.”

“I know!” She sniffed, “But it cost me nothing to make time for you. We could have baked cookies and watch a horribly cheesy Christmas movie, or, I don’t know,  _ something _ !”

Adrien could not give an honest answer. He could not pinpoint the exact moment he decided to lie to her about his holiday plans, either why he was confessing it now, his mind was unpredictable. The only thing he knew was that he did not want to lie to her again, so give the first excuse that popped into his mind was not going to cut as a good answer.

“I guess I’m used to being alone,” He said, it was neither an affirmation nor a lie.

Marinette didn’t answer. She was biting her lip and her eyes were focused on a death point, trying her best to stop the tears from falling. However, they had already started and there was no point in trying to stop them now.

The designer forgot all about her dress and leaned forwards, curling her body, hiding her face.

Adrien panicked.

“Nette, you’re going to ruin your job,” He cautiously moved the delicate pieces in front of her and took her hand away of the one she was working on before, so the tears wouldn’t fall on top.

Adrien took Marinette by her hands and pulled her to him. This was the first time after all the visits that he touched her like this. She had no problem doing it, hands roaming on his arms, pokes on his stomach, and leaning against his legs when she sat on the floor and him on the couch, but their contact was still restrained, he never touched her first, and he never asked for more than what she gave. Now he needed to hold her, so he didn’t pull back.

“I don’t ever want you to feel lonely.” She whispered against his ear. “Not if I can help it.”

“It’s not your job to take care of me, Nette. I walked into this life by own choice.”

“That’s not true,” She said back, it was so low that he barely heard her, in fact, he doubted that she meant for him to hear at all, so he did not comment on it, no matter how much he wanted to debate the statement.

“What did you do?” She asked, her voice was steadier now. “Were you at home? Did you go out?”

“I went to a Christmas Market, I stayed there until they closed. I walked home and saw the fairy lights around town, took some pictures of them. I called a few friends and wished them a merry Christmas as I came back to my apartment. I poured myself some warm wine, I took one frozen lasagna and put in in the oven as I watched a documentary series I’ve wanted to watch for a while and binge-ate some  _ jamón serrano _ as an appetizer. Though I don’t know if it worked well with the warm wine, but I’m so used to eating it now that I didn’t mind,” He shrugged, “I ate my lasagna, I finished my show and went to bed.” Adrien skipped the part where he let Plagg out of the ring, locked him on the pantry with all the expensive, high-quality cheese he had bought for him.

“Is your apartment cozy?” Marinette pouted.

“Cozy enough for a rental,”

“So, no.” She frowned and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Adrien laughed, even when he knew he shouldn’t. Marinette was worried about him, she was really hurting, why she still cared for him remained a mystery but there was nothing he could do about it. Marinette decided she would care for him, that she would treat him the same, and not force would convince her otherwise.

“You should have said yes,” She sighed, “If it was cozy at least I would have felt a little better.”

“Marinette it was really fine. I didn’t destroy anything, I didn’t drink into oblivion, I didn’t spend it in a park under the snow.” The memories of all those other Christmas came back to him in flashes. Some, he did not remember, but the ones he did, he regretted. “If it makes you feel any better, I can bring cured ham, frozen lasagna for two and warm wine. The documentary was on Netflix, so we would be all set for the night.”

“That does sound fun,” She smiled and poked his cheek, “Sadly, it’ll have to wait, since I’m so busy these next weeks.”

“I’m in whenever you are,” He smiled.

“I do have an idea of what we could do this very same week, though.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?”

“You could come up to my party,” Marinette fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“What? No, I couldn’t.”

“Yes, you could.”

“I feel like you’re forgetting a few details, princess,” He said, making circling motions with his hand around his face.

Marinette took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his.

“It is important for me,” Marinette whispered, looking at their hands as she played with the leather of the gloves, “I’ll put a fake name on the list for you to use. Just knowing you’ll be there will make me happy.  _ Please _ .” She begged with sorrow. “Alright,” He accepted against his better judgment because that look she performed made him unable to say anything else.

“Really?”

“Really,” He nodded, maybe later she would realize how that would never work, but for now he could give her a little bit of what she wanted and avoid a useless fight. “Now back to work, your event is in two days and tomorrow you need to sleep well,”

Marinette threw herself on top of him. He fell back on the floor but wrapped her arms around her too. She kissed his cheek and hid her face on the crook of his neck, nuzzling her nose against his skin.

His heart stopped at that, it felt so familiar, so Marinette. 

It was  _ them,  _ all over again.

**_xx_ **

Adrien stared at the two sentences he managed to write after two tedious hours of work and closed his laptop with both of his hands as he sighed dejectedly. This was turning into a daily event.

His distraction, however, came from a different place this time.

He didn’t have to wonder if he could see her, now, he could visit whenever he wanted to. He did need to check that there was no one around but jumping unannounced and watch Marinette’s smile when she turned to greet him was addicting.

Adrien wanted to see her so badly right now, but to do so he would have to go to her party tonight, he could not face her after it and lie and somehow, he was still having trouble deciding if showing up was the right decision. The thought was eating his brain out, making him unproductive.

The launch of the new collection she had been preparing for so long was tonight, the day she had been waiting and was so nervous about. This night would mark a new era for her, it would open her so many doors,  _ Rosé 93  _ would get the recognition it deserved.

He knew he had promised to go, and he  _ wanted _ to be there, but being logical, it was not the right move to make. Marinette was the logical one and was running with the idea, how could he dismiss her? Adrien had expected for her to change her mind, realize how dumb the idea was, but when the sun rose, and she finished the last dress two days ago, she gave him a pass that he could use to enter the party.

Adrien tried to excuse himself, yet he was unable to defeat Marinette’s point of view. There were too many people invited, people that she did not know, so if he decided to appear maybe she would never see him, but it would be nice for him to be there, to see her work.

There was a little detail she was missing. Marinette  _ would _ notice him because she knew  _ Adrien _ .

He could use his freelance job as a cover, he could lie to her and say that he was asked to do this instead of science, or that he needed the money so took the job, but he had the feeling that she wouldn’t like that.

If he didn’t go she would not notice, but then he would have to tell her that he hadn’t been there, and Adrien could not take the look those words would earn.

Without any get away from such a difficult situation, he found himself in front of the mirror, fixing his hair and fixing the collar of his shirt.

Marinette’s event was elegant but not extremely fancy or over the top. It had been so long since he attended a fashion event that he doubted every outfit he tried on.

Finally, he decided the best approach was to feel comfortable, so he was in black skinny suit pants, a white shirt, and a green blazer. The last piece of clothing was a wish materialized, a revelation in disguise.

Carrying his keys, wallet, and hope on his pocket, he went out of the apartment and walked to the closest metro.

Things would go as they needed to go, and he would face destiny as it approached, but not for fear he would leave Marinette hanging.

He arrived twenty minutes later to his destination. The sky had welcomed the night and the lights of all the buildings around it were on, but the brightest window was the one of Marinette’s store.

It looked a bit different than the past nights, he imagined they had shifted the decoration and focused on the event more than Christmas, there were more gold and pink around than before and shades of black and silver had appeared too. There were balloons on the entrance and the stairs had a new carpet and lights on it.

A group of people was on a line on the door and down the stairs, and two guards at the entrance were checking their bags and names on a list.

Adrien gulped. He fixed his hair, which for him meant, ruffling a little to not look so uptight and pulled the lapels of his blazer before walking up the stairs.

If the people on the line recognized him, they didn’t say anything, but they weren’t subtle when they stared at him.

When he reached the guards, Adrien gave his pass and the man on his left. The tall guard took the pass and looked at it, he showed it to the shorter man and then he started to flip pages through the list he was holding.

He stopped, looked at the list, then at Adrien at then the list again, reading out loud.

“ _ Félix Pluto _ ?” Adrien’s eyes perked up at the name.

He had to fake a cough to hide the laugh that had come out realizing why Marinette had chosen that name.

_ Clever, princess, very clever. Famous cat’s names for Paris’ own cat. _

“That’s me,” He shrugged.

“You can get in,” The man nodded, and Adrien nodded back, making his way inside the party.

The inside of the store was as sparkling and decorated as the window, but the lighting was duller, like the color of a stain of rosé wine. The music was soft and rhythmic, modern and melodic, the perfect background to engage in conversation.

Waitresses paced around the room with rose gold plates on their hands with multiple glasses of a variety of beverages -he could guess that it was mostly alcohol and liquors- and miniature pieces of fancy food.

It was a scenery he had not been immersed in for eight years. The glamour of the fashion scene had its own light, scent, and vibe, no matter the designer, no matter their style, inspiration, collection, whatever it was, it was always the same for him.

But he would do it, he would stay, for her.

Adrien walked around the store, avoiding curious eyes and girls that caught an eye on him and wanted to converse with him. He focused on the designs displayed in white glittery mannequins around the store, searching for Marinette’s designs specifically. It was easy to realize what pieces had been her ideas, which had been sewn by her and her favorites. Not only he had seen a few of the designs in Marinette’s floor or on her sketches, but he could also see her essence on them. She was talented but more than that, she was passionate, and the sentiment shone through her clothes. It was impossible to describe as it was to ignore.

A girl approached him meanwhile he looked at a long blue dress. She was attractive and wore designer clothes, she introduced herself as a fashion blogger, which explained why she had her phone in hand and constantly typed as they spoke.

Not wanting to do anything that could ruin Marinette’s night, he listened to her talk and walked with her to the rest of the designs. As she rambled beside him, his sight was on every corner of the room, searching for the young designer.

They were close to the third part of the collection when he saw her on the other side of the room.

She was giving her back to him, talking with three waitresses and pointing out places around the room.

Her deep dark hair was styled in a waterfall braid and curls. The dress made wonders to her silhouette, it hugged her body like a second skin in a pattern of translucent fabric and designs made with sequins, beads, and thread in black, and the then fell on a mermaid skirt.

His sight was traveling from her waist to her naked shoulders and exposed neck when she turned around and he caught a view of her glossy crimson lips.

Oh, heavens, he was lost, this was sweet surrender and it came in the shape of a smile.

Then he realized that she was moving, looking around the store and in a moment of pure bad luck -or maybe good luck, he wasn’t sure just yet- her eyes clashed with him, and a mischievous smile appeared on her face. 

Marinette had caught him staring.

He fidgeted on his place and looked at the roof and the people around him, hoping she would ignore him and let that awkward eye encounter pass by. But she did not. Marinette’s smile only grew and giving one last order to her employees she started to walk towards him.

He gulped and let out a big sigh. His cheeks were scorching,  _ was he blushing _ ? That would be embarrassing.

The girl beside him kept talking, unaware of what was going on between Marinette and him.

“Can you excuse me?” He cut the girl mid-sentence and did not wait for her to answer before giving two steps forward in Marinette’s direction.

His old friend waved as she gave the last step, standing less than a meter away from him.

“ _ Salute,” _ Her voice was like melting honey, but the smile on her lips was anything but sweet.  

“Salute,” He bowed with his head.

_ Why did he do that _ ?

“It’s nice to see you again, Adrien,” She smiled and tilted her head adorably. “But I must ask, as happy as I am to see you, I can’t help but wonder what brought you here to _ my  _ party?”

_ You _ .   

“An article,” He said and smiled, pleased with how fast he thought of the lie, and how convincing it was. “I’m a journalist, so yeah, that’s what I do.”

“You’re writing an article about our little boutique?”

“Yes. Awesome, right?” He chuckled nervously.

“Indeed,” Marinette curled a sided smile, it was like he saw right through him, “But why is a science and tech journalist writing a fashion piece?”

“Oh,” She got him there, and she was enjoying it. “Yeah… well… A bonus, because of the holidays! People are busy, and I needed the money and I took it.” He blinked slowly and nodded at her.

Marinette threw her head back laughing.

Adrien rubbed the back of his head and looked to the sides, checking if they were being watched.  But then his sight returned to her. She had looked beautiful before, but while she laughed, she glowed.

“What’s so funny?” He whispered, leaning close to her.

“You,” She answered, cutting short their distance too, “You’re cute.”

“Cute? Oh, I can take cute, I thought you were going to say ridiculous.”

Marinette laughed louder and shook her head “I would never,”

“Something tells me you would,” He pointed at her eyes, “Your ocean eyes tell no lies, Nette,”

“Well, maybe I would, you make it so easy.”

“So, it’s my fault now?”

“Yes,” She grinned.

A waiter passed beside them with a silver plate with glasses of champagne, wine and rosé. Adrien made a sign with his hand at him, asking him to stop. He reached for a glass of white wine and another of rosé, offering the last one to Marinette.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” He said and took a sip of his own glass.

They fell into silence. Adrien feared it would be the end of their encounter, after all, she did have more people to talk to and they would be more interesting, and less awkward than he would. Nonetheless, Marinette did not move. She drank sips of rosé and subtly swung side to side.

Adrien studied the dress in front of them. It was one of the pieces that had taken all of her, and now it shone like a recently polished diamond.

“Your collection is wonderful, Marinette,” He said, breaking the silence once he realized that she was waiting for him to make the first move.

“It is, isn’t it?” Marinette held the glass close to her face and smiled tenderly at the dresses in front of her. “It is a dream come true. We went through so many rough patches, it is almost a miracle that this is happening now.”

“It’s not a miracle, you’re talented and hardworking. You have everything to triumph, Marinette. And you did it.”

“Always so charming,” She giggled, “Walk with me?”

“Sure,” His nickname for her almost spilled from her lips. It was a shame he couldn’t use it now. He really felt like saying it, everything was so easy with her. No questions, no trick words to make him feel guilty, just pure bubbly conversation and real concern. 

How he wished he could give all those feelings back.

“That design almost didn’t make it,” The designer pointed out at the mannequin on the third platform they passed. “I couldn’t make the gold, silver, and copper work together with the chiffon, it’s too over the top, not my style at all.  Cecé really wanted it in the collection, she begged and begged until I could not say no. We worked nonstop until this crazy thing happened.”

“Well,  _ I  _ wouldn’t wear it, but I think is pretty good,” He laughed. Marinette laughed with him.

“And  _ what _ would you wear?” She teased.

“The blue dress on the other side of the room,” He turned and pointed out at the mannequin, “The length and that cut at the side are perfect. Also, I’m a sucker for the straight-across neckline. It’s simple yet elegant.”

“ _ Oh, _ you had that one ready,” She chuckled, “It is one of my favorites too. And leave it to you to know the exact cleavage… maybe I should have worn a straight-across neckline today...”

Adrien choked and cleaned his throat.

“You look beautiful… gorgeous! Wonderful, you really look  _ whoa _ ,”   

Marinette giggled, she stopped walking and spun on her heels, standing right in front of him.

Leaning close to him, she pressed her hands against his chest and looked at him with a secret hidden in her eyes.  

Marinette brushed the dust out of his jacket and then fixed the left lapel, running her hand down his chest. She was so comfortable touching him, it made him freak out especially with her looking right at his eyes the entire time. The way she moved around him, the way she talked, it was like she was saying _ ‘I know you like me’ _ .

“You look  _ whoa _ too,” She grinned. “Green suits you.”

“So, I’ve been told,” He said, managing to smirk through his nervousness.

Adrien didn’t know when she did it, but now she was pressed against him, her hands still on his jacket, her chest pressed to him, rising and falling at the same rhythm as his. With courage he didn’t know he had, his hand landed on the lower curve of her back and rested her head on the crook of her neck.

The high heels allowed her to lean and get into the perfect height to whisper on his ear without having to stand on the tips of her toes. “I’m glad you’re back, Adrien.”

When she stepped back, the curve of her lips brushed the lobule of his ear and the line of his jaw. Unable to control himself he let out a gasp.

Marinette’s hand wrapped around his upper arm and traveled up, to his shoulder and then his cheek, brushing softly against his skin following the path of his scar.

Her eyes met his with the sweetest passion, and then before he could lose all control and take her lips on his, she spoke.

“Chloé is here.” And she walked away.

There was no time to stop her, beg her to come back and stay with him as they had been seconds before, he heard the sound of Chloé’s heels approaching and got ready to face her.

However, it would be easier than meeting anyone else. Unsure of why he did it, Chloé was the only person he kept tabs on.

It was easier, she was flashy and liked the attention, so her name could be found in one simple google search. And, Chloé, now a recognized publicist, had worked with the brand he worked for two years ago. He had avoided her like the plague when she visited the office in Madrid but had been really happy about how successful she was now.

She did look different, more mature, more centered. But what was she doing here?

Adrien waved at her awkwardly. It was too late to come up with an excuse and escape.

Chloé didn’t jump to find him in a hug but found her desire for physical contact by catching his hand.

“Adrien! I can’t believe you are here.” She bounced on her place. “Marinette told us she saw you a few months back. I was hoping to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, Chlo.”

The sparkle of her dress caught his attention. He had seen it before, in Marinette’s hand as she knitted the silver beads on the tight skirt.

Chloé was wearing one of Marinette’s dresses, one of the dresses in the new collection, which only meant Nette had given it to her. That just made his curiosity grow. He had been gone for eight years, many things changed when you were away but this one of those things that were too strange to have happened. Marinette and Chloé?Being friends? That was something he never thought could have happened.

“Um, so, uh…” He started and Chloé’s laugh cut him.

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to. I can still make all the talking.” She waved her hand and flipped her hair.

Adrien looked down smiling. He put his hands on his pockets and shrugged, that would be enough to accept her offer.

“I’ll make it short for you, you’ve missed a lot,  _ Adrikins _ .” She said it in a way that it only stated a fact, there was no intention to guilt trip him. “I’ll start with yours truly: I’m a famous publicist, still on the rise, I’m dating an incredible girl -you would like her, she is an Olympic fencer- and we bought a dog last week! Can you believe? Me with a dog? I’m surprised as well. What else can I say? Ah, yes! Miss designer and I are friends now, that is a long story, one day I’ll tell you about it. I’m doing my best to get her a spot in  _ Vogue _ , she thinks I won’t make it, but she is underestimating me.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it,” Adrien said, truly believing it, “You’re convincing enough.”

“Of course, I will, and if I don’t succeed now, I’ll give Alya a call and we’ll work something about it.”

“You’re friends with Alya too?”

“Yeah, with Nino too,” Chloé said his name more cautiously. “I mean, things are a little icy between us and Marinette these days but we’re still friends. Nino and Alya should get here later, they couldn’t skip work.”

“Why?” Adrien inquired.

“Nino is producing for a big band and needed to finish and Alya is—”

“No, no,” Adrien waved his hand and put the glass of champagne down on the table behind him. “Why are things icy with Marinette?”

“Oh…”

Chloé chewed her lips.

“What is it, Chlo?”

“It… it involves…” Chloé rubbed her temples, “It doesn’t matter…

“It involves  _ me _ ,” He stated.

“I… Adrien…”

“ _ Gabriel?” _ He dropped the name and Chloé shivered.

“Sort of?” Chloé squeezed his shoulder. Was she comforting him or herself? “There are reported sightings of Chat Noir.”

_ Chat Noir, it was about Chat Noir. _

_ He had been seen. _

“Listen, there’s no need to—

“Tell me,” Adrien said, ice on his words.

“Please don’t take it the wrong way, I promise we’re working on it.

“Uh… Dupain-Cheng has some history with him.” She whispered, eyeing Marinette in the distance, “Alya thinks he has visited her.”

He had been seen and Marinette had been tied with him. This was not supposed to happen.

“She is not in her right mind, Adrien, I promise she isn’t doing it with malice,” Chloé grabbed his arms and locked eyes with his sight. “We’re trying to make her see, but she won’t listen to reason. He has her manipulated.”

“What... what do you mean?” His voice trembled.

“Marinette… Marinette sees someone that isn’t there. Her heart created a man that she could love, and she refuses to let him go. She is unable to see him for who he really is. Whatever number he pulled on her, he did it right. Marinette still believes the hero is inside him and we fought.”

“All of you?” Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. Marinette fought with her friends because of him.

“We love her, and… you’ve been gone Adrien, but we know she cares about you, as  _ we _ do. You’re back and we’ll give you the time you need to get back to us, but meanwhile, we’re trying to make her get back to her senses. We know she won’t forgive herself if she hurts you.”

_ Marinette won’t forgive herself _ .

A champagne bottle popped, camouflaging the sound of his breaking heart, the smashing of the pieces of his already shattered soul.

Adrien and Chloé turned around to see where the sound came from. Around Marinette and her partners, a circle of people were clapping and cheering for them, asking them to give a speech.

Marinette was giggling, covering her mouth with her mouth and ended up in the middle of the hug her friends were sharing.

He stared at the images in front of him which passed in slow motion. This night had given him everything he desired. Marinette trusted him enough to invite him to his party. She saw him as Adrien and came to talk to him and  _ flirted _ . Chloé said his friends still cared about him, they were waiting for him to come back to them with arms open. Because Adrien was a victim because Adrien had all the reasons to break and burn and then put himself together and beg for forgiveness. But he was not  _ just  _ Adrien. He was also the traitor his friends were warning Marinette about, the traitor they hated, a traitor they saw as the villain he was. Not like Marinette… Marinette saw a version of him that it wasn’t real.

Marinette did not forgive me, she tricked herself, so she could love him again. The excruciating pain that nested in her heart should have created a smoke curtain to delude her, to  _ cope _ . 

It all made sense now, all her flaws had crawled and found a place to irradiate to. All his flaws, all the broken pieces he had were cutting Marinette deep, draining her of the real existence of the situation, dragging her away from the shore. 

“Adrien are you okay?” Chloé grabbed his shoulders and shook him softly, “Are you feeling alright? Did I say too much?”

“Yes, yes, I mean no, it’s. Ugh, I’m okay!” He nodded and pushed her back, “I just remembered something… I’ll talk to you later.” He pulled a business card out of his wallet and gave it to Chloé as a promise to keep.

His feet felt heavy and his head too light, like he was going to stay stuck there against his will or evaporate in the air. The last one would have been useful, as crowded as the room was, Adrien was unsure if he could make it out of there alive.

The people around him were  _ too  _ happy,  _ too _ loud,  _ too _ perfect. They were funny, successful and carried their dreams on their backs, ready to display and share them with everyone. They had normal lives and if they had tragic backstories, they would never compare to his, because they would have never been evil as he was. 

This was the kind of crowd that should orbit around Marinette. 

She was made of sunlight and gold dreams, of hope and smiles, and he was darkness on its purest form, he could not come and ruin her life. If he loved her, and  _ oh damn _ , how much he loved her, he had to walk away.

In this case, he would  _ run _ away.

His breath got stuck on his throat, the walls felt closer and a layer of cold sweat formed on his forehead. Adrien pushed people aside as he walked towards the door, getting a chain of insults back, but he did not mind, he just  _ had _ to leave. 

“ _ Adrien!” _ Marinette’s voice rang on his ears. If it had been the real Marinette or the ghost of her voice created by his mind didn’t mind, he could not tell the difference. He didn’t turn to verify, he ran faster and away from the party.

Back on his apartment, with every light off, papers on the floor and a dozen of broken glasses, vessels and a chair in pieces on the floor. With blood on his hands and tears on his eyes, cheeks, and shirt, he threw the hexagonal box far away from him. It crashed with the window, cracked it in the middle and bounced back to the rug.

Adrien cleaned his tears with his hands, leaving stains of blood on his cheeks. He was turning back to his senses, he was seeing all the damage that he could not remember, and he let his body give up and drop to the floor.

The broken man growled with no shame, he felt numb and overwhelmed, the duality, the irony, the guilt corroded his soul.

Crawling to the destroyed coffee table, he brushed the shattered glass and took one of the notebooks under it. He ripped a paper, took a pen and in messy writing he scribbled a message and an apology.

It was naïve to think that things would ever go right, he joined and helped a villain, now he would always be known as one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea how many times i've read this scene, it was one of the first things i wrote for this thingy :)
> 
> find me on tumblr: buginettez.


	7. i’ll receive your stifling stare till i die.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flashbacks hurt

**_act vii. but i know i could never do it_ **

**_i must hide because i’m ugly_ **

The stabbing knife returned on his back and got into his heart.

The front page of the newspapers had a grainy dark picture printed all over it. 

Twitter was going crazy with mentions directed to the old profile the heroes once had. Every news platform was talking about it, radio stations were holding sections and letting people call to discuss the appearance of the cat in the night. Paris had leaped into the new year carrying hatches of their past.

Adrien looked at the healing wounds on his hands, six days had passed since the disastrous night, but the restless feeling of failure and burden quivered inside of him. The tiny lacerations were the only reminder he had at hand to keep him sane, the visual reminder that stopped him from snapping again.  

Nonetheless, there were other ways of soaking in self-destruction, and Adrien knew them too well.

He was back inside the locked walls, inside the darkness of his heart. All the steps he gave forward were taken back, the effort he put on trying to be a better person, ask for forgiveness and see himself in a new light had been erased after the party.

It was worse once he saw the pictures and the articles. Paris was too eager to discuss the wound he had been trying to close for so long.

The stitches were getting loose and the memories dropped like hail on a glass roof.

**xx**

_ It was on Alya’s blog first and then it was _ everywhere _ else. _

_ He did not expect the reaction that the articles caused, neither how easily all the citizens turned his back on him. _

_ He did not expect them to understand his stand immediately, but he thought they would have some doubts, that they would ask themselves what was happening to him and maybe realize that if he had joined the other side he would have good reasons. But that had been just wishful thinking because none of that happened. He was labeled as a villain just as fast as he had been labeled as a hero. _

_ The gossip, the fear, the uncertainty of the citizens, all of it bounced around the city and managed to hit him like a pile of debris. _

_ Discovering his father’s secret, listening to him and realize why he was doing what he did had changed his life. Choosing to help him had changed  _ him _. But the reaction of his partner, the girl who once had loved him and trusted him  _ broke _ him. _

_ On his mind he had a plan to let Ladybug know that he was not doing this for selfish reasons, that he did not have a choice but to follow Papillon, but he couldn’t bring it to life, it was all perfect inside his mind, but it was like a glass statue, functional and beautiful inside, away from sticks and stones that could be thrown in the outside world. _

_ Conflicted and gradually losing his mind, he decided that if he could not talk to Ladybug, he could go to Marinette. He trusted her and knowing the truth would not hurt her as it could hurt LB. She could tell Marinette, she always had her door open for him. _

_ Until that night. _

_ The door was closed, the lights were out and there was no sweet girl hanging around her balcony with a quilt and coffee mugs, waiting for a hero to jump in the air and land to her side. _

_ He understood and did not knock. _

_ Marinette had been quiet at school, she had not made any comments about Chat Noir. Alya had pushed her to say something, constantly asking her opinion but she remained silent.  _

_ Adrien appreciated it. _

_ She was probably the only one that was taking her time to wrap her mind around the surprising hero’s turn to the dark side. _

_ He did not want to disturb her, but as more articles came and the more his classmates spoke about the subject, he grew more and more unstable. _

_ And that showed on his encounters with Ladybug. The more she fought her, the more insecure he felt, the worse their fights ended up being. _

_ Ladybug was persistent, he knew that. It was hard to fight her not only because he had to throw a few punches and do his best to convince her to give him the earrings, it was hard because Ladybug still thought that she could bring him back to her. _

_ She still believed in him, and she was trying to figure it out what was wrong with him. _

And then it happened _. _

_ He did not remember the akuma his father sent, but it had been a strong one. _

_ Chat Noir was following Ladybug, so he could catch her, so he could speak to her and give his usual speech of how much he needed her earrings, maybe that time he would manage to get inside her heart and she would have mercy on him and do as he asked.   _

_ Instead, he made everything more complicated. He made a wrong call. _

_ He was too caught up on his own feelings, too focused on getting what he needed so it would all be over, and when she jumped he had attacked. His thoughts had not been in the right place, his heart had been clouded by his selfish desires and he had attacked her like she was just another villain and not his loved partner _ .

 

The glass of water he had been drinking shattered on Adrien’s hand, piercing his skin and digging inside the flesh.

The blood dripped on the table, he flinched seconds too late and the drops hit the wooden floor, he could feel it drop by drop, he could hear the cartoonish sound of the red liquid hitting the growing puddle, but he did not look, he did not feel, the images of a past he would rather erase were banging the walls of his mind. Because what happened next was impossible to forget, it was the scenario of multiple nightmares, nightmares that haunted him even when he was awake.  

_ He could see it all in vivid colors, every move he made, every step she took but he still couldn’t understand the tragic event. _

_ How had she been so close? Why hadn’t she run? When had they reached the distance of an arm's length? He couldn’t recall, it all had gone too fast. But worse of all, he couldn’t recall when he called cataclysm. _

_ That didn’t change a single thing, it had happened and a small stroke from his hand on her back had been enough. _

_ Adrien’s eyes opened wide, just like her mouth as the little gasp she threw at the beginning turned into a stinging scream of sorrow, and then unable to move, she fell. Too far from his reach, too fast for him to register what he had done. _

_ Adrien did not see her land, he did not see anything at all. His breath turned erratic, his heart pumped up blood in a rush, the images in front of him were blurry, his vision was clouded, and his skin was frosting, the cold of it piercing on his bloodstream, getting to his mind. _

The wounds on his hand were open again and all he did was stare. His hand had done so much damage, it was fair only fair that it bled.

Adrien stood up from the rug and walked to his bathroom, his limbs were rigid, and his eyes were blurry, but he moved in autopilot and did as his muscle memory told him to do.

He locked the door behind him and ran to open the sink of the tub and the water streamed down like a furious river. Quickly the tiny room got full of steam. There was not a drop of cold water falling down, the bathroom became to feel too hot for anyone to bare.

Adrien undressed and got into the bath, not a sound escaped his lips, but the hot water burned his skin, turning it bright red.

He did not mind, all he could see, and feel was the past.

_ His father assured him that Ladybug was alive, that he would know if she was dead. That didn’t ease the pain, that didn’t ease the guilt. _

_ Adrien was locked on his bathroom, head underwater, skin burning because of the high temperature. He was drowning on his feelings and he needed to physically feel it. _

_ The events of the day would be on every news report, on Alya’s blog. His classmates would be talking about it on their WhatsApp chat. He could not escape it, and he could not ignore it. This was something he could not put on his father, this was all on him. _

_ Nathalie came to take him out of the tub. She screamed at him and made him eat and put on warm clothes, get ready to bed. She promised him once he slept it would be gone. _

_ But Adrien could not sleep. Ladybug’s face replayed on his mind every time he closed his eyes and the raw scream ran on his ears every time he looked around his room. _

_ He could not cope with what was happening. And there was no one who could understand him. Not even Plagg.  _

_ The little god was hiding from him, and Adrien thought that was better because after the look he got from his kwami, he rather not face him ever again, it was clear that Adrien wasn’t worth it of him anymore. _

_ Maybe he had never been. _

_ Unable to keep the feelings bottled, he took the pillow pressed it on his face and screamed until his lungs ran out of air. _

_ The chain of events after that was in a blur. He did things he would never have done, and a thousand more he did not remember anymore. Whatever he did, all the damage, all the pain managed to mash together into one conclusion, and against Plagg’s will, he was transforming again and running through the rooftops, hiding in the shadows of the night. _

_ His objective was clear, and he did not stop until he saw the lights of the banner of the bakery in front of him. _

_ It was selfish, manic and dangerous, but Adrien needed her. _

_ She would listen to him, she would understand. She would believe him. _

_ It had been a mistake, a horrible unforgettable mistake but Marinette had to understand. She knew him, she knew the real him, she would know. _

_ He could trust her. _

_ Landing on her rooftop he saw what was recurrent now: the door was closed, and the lights were out. But he did not back down this time. _

_ Chat kneeled down and started banging on the trap door, loud and strong. _

_ “Nette! Nette, wake up!” _

_ Ten minutes passed, and every second of them felt like a thick needle injecting him a shot of acid. There was no way she wasn’t listening, she slept right there. She was a good sleeper, but she would not sleep through that much noise. Marinette was avoiding him.   _

_ “Please, princess, I beg of you!” _

_ “Go away!” Marinette’s voice leaked through the trap door. _

_ “Marinette, please,” _

_ “Go away!” She repeated. _

_ “Please, please, please,” He begged, knocking on the floor like his life depended on it, and maybe it actually did. _

_ He choked on his own tears, but he kept calling her name. _

_ At some point, the trap door swung open. _

_ He crawled back, and blue eyes dripping with rage and irritated in red glared at him. Marinette’s skin was pale, there were marked bags under her eyes and she looked tired and weak. _

_ “Go. away.” She hissed. _

_ “Nette, please, you need to listen to me,” He reached for her, trying to catch her in a hug. Adrien needed to feel her close, he needed to feel her love. _

_ “What?” Marinette pushed him away, not letting him touch her. “What could you say to make me welcome you into my life again? _

_ “Princess, you have to trust me I— _

_ “How can I trust you?” Marinette’s piercing eyes were filled with poison, “I don’t even fucking know you. You are the biggest liar I’ve ever stumbled with.” _

_ “No, no, no. Princess, I swear, I have my reasons. You need to understand that— _

_ “There are no good reasons for what you’re doing! I don’t want to hear your excuses. I saw what you did…” _

_ “I can explain!” _

_ “You threw her out of the roof!” Marinette shouted. Her eyes were filling with tears, her hands were closed in fists and her whole body was trembling. “I thought…I thought you cared about her,” _

_ “I do!” _

_ “You don’t! If you did, if you really cared about her,” Marinette sobbed, “You tou-touched her with… with…” Marinette choked on her own words, unable to keep going. _

_ “I didn’t me— _

_ “You touched her with  _ cataclysm _!” The rage rang on her last word. Marinette’s cheeks stained in red and matched the color of her eyes “You were going to  _ **_kill_ ** _ her!” _

_ “I… no, that,  _ **_NO_ ** _! I never—Marinette, you have to listen to me!” _

_ “She means nothing to you! You’re the worst person I’ve ever met! You’re a villain and I don’t want to associate with you. Not now, not ever!” _

_ “I didn’t—I wasn’t—no. Marinette. Listen to me!” _

_ Chat grabbed her arm and pulled her close. He would not let her go, he loved her, he needed her. _

_ Marinette screamed and snapped her arm free from him. _

_ She took a spray bottled she used to water her plants and hit him with it. Chat Noir pulled back, pressing one gloved hand against his cheek. _

_ “If you ever come back, you’ll regret it,” Marinette threatened him, “And I’m not like you. I do not lie or make promises that go to waste.” _

Adrien followed the path of the wound on his hand, and once it was over his finger ran up his arm, tracing every mark until he reached his shoulder and felt the rough patch of his burns. He extended his hand and followed the shape. 

From his right shoulder to his scapula, then a little spot on his back, then he moved to his abs, a few lines of burns were decorating his right side. The last ones were the burns on his upper leg, those were the prettiest of them all.

His mistakes were not only engraved on his mind, but they had also left a reminder on his body too. He was lucky that karma had spared his face, the scar was ugly, but it was thin, and though he was the one that wore it, it was his father who had to live with the consequences of what he had done. He had to live with the burden that he had physically hurt his own son. Since he did not seem to mind how much he had fucked up his mind.

The scars had been on his body for ten years now, they were a part of him as much as any other thing was but after the pictures, after Chloé’s words, after his own realizations, the scars were the palpable proof of his sins. 

And so, he touched them. 

He dug his nails on his arms and scratched down, passing burns and scars, opening fresh and old wounds.

Reaching for the loofa, he poured all the soap he could and started to scrub. He felt so dirty, unworthy, a wolf in a sheep’s clothes. The traitor past he wanted so hard to escape from was another layer of his skin, a translucent veil that suffocated him. 

Who did he think he was? How could he ever believe he could be forgiven?

He scrubbed and scrubbed until his skin turned bright pink, but it wasn’t enough to wash away the sin, Adrien could still feel it on every fiber of his being. 

The memories of his mistakes were chains made of thorns around his body, but they weren’t external anymore, they managed to make symbiosis with him, they were a parasite that ate every happy thought he dared to have.

His fingers scratched against his skin, against the burns and the scars, leaving white threads of hurt.

The tips of his fingers started bleeding, his skin was irritated and tender to his touch, but he still felt disgusting.

The tears fell down, feeling colder than the water surrounded him did. As much as he wanted them to stop, they wouldn’t answer to his command.

He submerged in the water and let out a scream, tears falling down harder but at least he could not see them underwater.   

Adrien screamed until the air wasn’t necessary until his lungs started to fill with water, until he had no desire left to reach the surface. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr: buginettez
> 
> i don't know when i'll post next chapter, there are a few things i want to edit but i have to be careful to make it work without ruining the plot and progress of the story.


	8. without you, there’s no meaning to my irregular orbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a seesaw game.

**_act viii. i’m afraid, so shattered._ **

**_i’m so afraid that you will leave me in the end too_ **

**_once again i put on a mask to go see you_ **

 

The line of sunlight fell right on top of his face, and when he opened his eyes the bright light was bothersome. 

Adrien was lying down on the comfort of his bed, he pressed his elbows against the mattress and pulled himself up. He blinked fast and rubbed his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the day leaking through the curtains.

He didn’t remember how he got there, his memories went back to the bathtub, blurry visions under the water, bubbles, and drops of red. Adrien looked around his bedroom, searching for signs and clues of what could have happened last night.  It wouldn’t be the first time he forgot his actions, and he feared that it wasn’t going to be the last.

The white sheets were dry, there were no smudges of blood or reek of liquor in them. Adrien’s hand traveled around his body, his skin remained overly sensitive and the scratches were scaring by now. No sign of any other self-inflicted or accidental wounds.

Adrien stood up to see the room from another perspective, find anything that could help him recreate last night events, but every object was in the same place he remembered had been before. It didn’t make sense, whenever he blacked out, he had a thread of clues to track and use as a puzzle to put the night back together.

The nightstand lamp was still on its place, unbroken, no signs of struggling, the cup of coffee he did not drink still by its side and an open book right beside. The closet doors were half open, there were ties and dress shirts on the floor, the TV was buzzing on a paused movie he started two nights ago at three am.

Adrien leaned against the wall, slowly falling to the ground and pulling the hair out of his scalp. 

Why was so unnerving that everything was right where it supposed to be? Was it because he didn’t expect to see anything of it again? Because he had decided that this would finally be the end?

He ran from the bedroom to the living room and then to the kitchen searching for a detail that could help him figure out, yet just like before everything was in the same place he left it.

The broken glass was still spread on the rug, the chairs and tables were down, the curtains were closed, the cans of beer and cardboard boxes of frozen food were on every counter and the dirty dishes were towering on the sink. The radio was on, the volume so low he would not have known it was playing music if the blue digital lights weren’t indicating the song and the station.

The only explanation was that he had found a way out of the tub. A logic thought must have struck him before losing conscience and he went to sleep. It was going to be hard to accept but the only thing that was telling him that there was something fishy about the whole situation was his instinct, and heaven knew how many times it had failed him before. If he thought it through it was impossible for anything to have changed, he was alone, he only had himself and no one in the city knew where he lived -except for his boss, with who he only exchanged a few words every time he had a job-, no person could have come and helped him, it had been all him. However, forgetting the night was doing tricks on his mind.

Oblivion was outstandingly beautiful if you knew how to make it play on your side of the team, but it was a force that refused to be tamed. It used its power when it wanted and how it wanted, and all the things that Adrien forgot because it generated more pain than relief.

Adrien walked back to the bathroom and searched under the mess that was the counter under the sink. He reached for a small tubular flask and pulled it out. He took it by putting his thumb on the base and index on the tab and balanced it from side to side, the sound of the pills falling was recomforting.

_ When was the last time I took one? _

The sole fact of forgetting the day he last swallowed one of those pills was a bad sign. She was not going to be happy with him. He didn’t feel happy with himself either, and that was all he needed to know that he should give her a call. he would get a -- but it was what he needed to do.

Adrien walked out of the bathroom and onto his room. He picked up the phone of the nightstand and searched on the list of favorite contacts and tapped on the second on the list.

The phone rang six times before she picked it up.

_ “¿Adrien?”  _ The accent on his name did not go missing, and the strange familiarity made him smile a little.

_ “Bea ¿Estás ocupada?” _

_ “No,” _ He could not tell if she was lying.  _ “¿Qué ha pasado? ¿Sigues en Paris?” _

_ “Sí… pues, la verdad es que no tengo la menor idea de donde empezar,” _ He sighed, “ _ Debí de haberte llamado antes,” _

_ “No pasa nada, Adrien. ¿Cuál es el problema?” _

_ “Todo, Bea, todo _ .”    (*)

**xx**

Sitting on the kitchen counter after a phone call of an hour and thirty minutes with Bea, his amazing psychologist, he was eating a warm meal, drinking water and taking the medication he had skipped three days in a row.  

The room around him was quiet, no sound of the TV, the streets or a broken sink, nothing but Bea’s words echoing on his mind. Bouncing like a jumping ball and breaking all the crystal vessels that contained his thoughts.

_ If she still desires your company, if she can forgive you after your last encounter, the things she said and the things you did, then something did not only change in her, something changed in  _ you, _ and she can see it. Why don’t you ask her? Communication is key, Adrien. You can’t choose for anyone but you. You can’t take someone else decisions, even if they involve you _ .

Adrien wanted to disagree with her, but if he thought about it without throwing his personal feelings into it, it did make sense. Usually, everything Beatriz said made sense because she didn’t have a dramatic traumatized brain to make her decisions and form her opinions about the world. Not like Adrien who saw the word through  _ blue-tinted-glasses _ . And he lacked communication skills, those were important too.

Once he finished his dinner, he quickly cleaned and organized the wrecked rooms, so he wouldn’t start from zero tomorrow morning, and as he did so he found the hexagonal box on the floor. Open. The ring nowhere to be found.

Adrien choked on his own breath “No, no, no, no.”

He dropped to his knees and started touching the carpet around, looking down the close furniture.

“It’s not there,” A voice called behind him, “I got it. I can’t leave it behind and I was hungry, so I carried it with me. Also, there’s only one round of cheese left, you need to restock.”

Adrien’s breath got stuck on his throat, he turned slowly, every move controlled and unnatural. The fear ran cold and turbulent like the stream of a river crashing into the ocean.

When he found the eerie green eyes, his soul left his body. Adrien had been avoiding, ignoring, and trapping him in every way he could so he wouldn’t have to face him. Disappointment, it was something he recognized in a person’s eyes, he got harsh looks with the emotion pooled inside and he learned to live with it, he brushed them off before they could touch his skin, but in all honesty, it was easy to ignore disappointment if you didn’t know or care about the person

Plagg’s disappointment would pierce his heart like an iron arrow drenched in poison, because he meant so much, that he wouldn’t compare to any mundane thing in the world, that would be outrageous.

But the look never came, neither did the yelling.

He waited for one

     two

  three seconds.

Nothing happened and already on the verge of madness, he snapped.

“Why aren’t you screaming at me?!” Adrien shouted, pulling his hair, tears falling down his eyes.

“You still don’t understand. Don’t you, _ kid _ ?”  

No further explanation came from his old friend. Plagg flew with the ring on his hands, dropped it in front of Adrien without looking at him or making any sound, an unusual behavior but that was starting to become familiar to Adrien. He didn’t like it, there was nothing worse to being ignored by Plagg, he would prefer him kicking and screaming, even insulting him. But he didn’t.

Plagg just gave him the ring and left, he didn’t care about his distress, about his tears, nor the pulsating guilt on his heart.

He didn’t care enough to complain.

“I’m sorry…” Adrien whispered, jaw shaking. “I’m so, so, so, sorry.”

**xx**

If there was one thing that never lost its beauty was the way that the lights of the city reflected in the brand-new snow. Sometimes the snow was brighter than the lights, so white that the lights didn’t look bright enough and the sky turned the darkest shade of blue. And other’s the snow stained in the colors of the neon lights and the cars’ headlights.

Both were beautiful, but the prettiest way to see the snow, in Adrien’s opinion, was on top of the blue tiles of the center buildings. It was charming, and it gave the old town a more magical feeling than the one it already had.

The view of the snow on the midnight air was almost as delightful as the beautiful girl sleeping in her balcony, snowflakes fluttering around her, clumping on the points of her hair, sliding down her nose and kissing her petal pink lips. As pretty as she looked, if she stayed where she was, she would freeze. Pink would turn to blue and her dark locks would turn white, and as much as she deserved to be scattered in crystals, these weren't the ones he would like to see on her.

Marinette had a quilt wrapped around her and a pink wool beanie on her head, a cup of coffee on the table in front and a book on her hands. That wasn’t keeping her warm, he could see her tremble under all of it. The weather did not call to be enjoyed, the temperature demanded to stay inside, turn up the heat and pass the evening cozy and watching movies. But this was Marinette, she was headstrong, so much, that she would fight the weather.

The reason was obvious, he didn’t have to be a genius to know that Marinette was waiting for him.

How many nights had she been there? How did she still believed in him to turn up?

He needed to talk to her. The weather was predicted to only get colder, and if Marinette kept waiting for him outside she was going to get pneumonia at best.

After realizing that Marinette was not going to wake up anytime soon, he decided to take handle of the situation. 

Adrien landed on the balcony cautiously, slid to her side and waited a few seconds only in case she decided to wake up. She did not. 

Taking her on his arms, carrying her bridal style, he opened the door and entered the apartment, walking to what he knew was Marinette’s room, but never had been to.

The room was like second storage for her store. There was a queen size bed on the corner of the room where the window stood, a nightstand and a few posters and drawings plastered all over the wall, the rest of the room was filled with racks of clothes and shoes, and only one and a half of those seemed to be Marinette’s daily clothes. 

He shifted on his feet, avoiding the piece of clothing, shoes, and tools on the floor and walked to the bed. His moves had been quite robotic as he did this and had to re-adjust Marinette on his arms in one of the bad steps he took. It made her groan and she moved on his arms.

Without opening her eyes, she started whining and moving. 

“No,” Marinette mumbled, jolting on his arms. “ _ Ba-b-balcony, _ ” Her lips quivered to match her shivering body. 

“No, it’s cold outside. You’re a bit out of your mind to have been there with how low the temperatures are.” Adrien whispered and placed her on top of her bed. He adjusted the quilt and brushed her hair away from her face, touching her freezing skin.

“But,”

“No, but,” He put one finger on her lips and pushed her back to bed, softly. 

“But, I… adr…” Marinette coughed, Chat stiffened. A moment of silence in which he didn’t know if he was alive or about to open the doors of another dimension passed by, and then she spoke again. “Adrift.”

_ Adrift?  _

“What?”

“I feel adrift,” She answered. 

He smiled and relaxed.  There was a moment where he thought he had been caught, but it was just Marinette being her dramatic, yet adorable, self. 

“How so?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, and rolled in the bed, covering her entire body with the blanket. “This is so warm,” She whispered.

“Isn’t it? Ten times better than the freezing balcony,” Chat said and helped her cover her feet. “Stay there, I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”

“Okay.” Marinette sat on the bed, connecting her gaze to his. She took his hand and pulled him down. 

She pressed a kiss against his cheek that made him forget how cold he was. 

“I knew you would be back. For a second I thought the cold was making me see things but.. here you are. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He admitted. “Now, let go of my hand so I can make coffee.”

“Why don’t you have a cup? You were cold too.”

“I’m not staying, love.”

“What? Why not? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“It has come to my attention that people are searching for me.” Adrien said, “Miss  _ ex-Ladyblogger _ seems to be one of the most avid ones.” 

“Oh,” Her lips twitched  “We’ll be more careful. I’ll keep the secret from Alya and come up with something so is easier for you to get in without being noticed.”

“That’s not what worries me, Marinette.”

“No? Then what is it? What else could worry you?”

“You.” 

“Me?” Marinette left the cup of coffee on the nightstand and stood up from the bed with the blanket was still around her body. “I don’t understand. You don’t have to worry about me. You know me, you know I can keep a secret.”

“I know you can, and that makes me worry.” He took one step back, creating some sense of distance. “Spending time with me means keeping secrets from your friends, from everyone in your life really. I don’t want you to lie to your friends, I don’t want you to discuss with them because you’re friends with me.”

“Who I choose to spend my time with it’s not of their business--

“It is, sort of, if they’re good friends, and I’m sure they are. I don’t think anyone would like that someone, as good and kind as you are, to be friends with me… a traitor.”

“Don’t call yourself that.”

“It is what I am.”

“No, it is not. That… when you… it was a long time ago, and you _ are  _ good. Everyone is allowed to make mistakes.” She threw her head back and sighed. “We talked about this, Chat.”

“I know,” 

“Then?”

“You don’t get it.”

“No, I do get it. You’re trying to find an excuse so you can walk out of my life, but making it seem as it was the best for me, because you are scared.”

“That’s not it.”

“It is,” The blanket fell to her feet as Marinette threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “You think walking out of my life, again, will be good for me? You don’t get to decide that, you’re not me, you don’t know how I feel.”

“I know I don’t. But I… 

“I opened my door and my heart for you, that was my decision. I knew your issues, I knew mine and I still decided to do it. It wasn’t something that just randomly happened, I took my time to take that decision and I don’t regret it… I didn’t until now…”

“Ma--

“You told me you wanted me to forgive you, I already had, but you insisted that you wanted to earn it. Did you feel like you earned it? Is that why you’re leaving? Am I just a name on the list of things you want to check out?”

“ **_No._ ** _ ” _

“You don’t like me anymore? Did someone tell you something that you didn’t like or that--

“I’m scared!” He shouted and the room went quiet. 

Marinette looked at him with heavy eyes. 

“I’m scared of whatever this connection between us really is. It is too strong and I felt myself attaching to you more and more every day, and I was happy but then something just pulled me back to earth.”

“I started to center all my happiness in you because you became the main source of it and… 

“And?”

“I’m deceiving you. I’m using you, to be this great version of me, but actually I… 

“Deceiving me? No, I know  _ exactly  _ who you are, Chat.” 

“No, you don’t, if you did you wouldn’t have--

“I know you quite well. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t love you now…. you would still be the person I hate most in this world. But you’re not.”   
_ The person I hate most.  _

What had changed? 

Marinette’s hate was reasonable. Her love was the echo of dangerous alarms. 

What had changed to make such a big jump? 

It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to stay to see her crumble and find the truth beneath the surface.

“I don’t want to break anything else, Nette. Especially not you.”

Marinette swayed to the other side of the room, where a shelf he had not noticed before stood. There were different decorative objects in there, but Marinette took a little pot, leaving all the pens inside of it on top of the shelf before coming back to him. 

“Chat,” She called, he looked at her, giving her his full attention. 

“I remember so many things about you, likes and habits, also quirks, and there are a few that I have been able to see that stay still, however, there are others that are still a mystery.”  She smiled, “I remember your love,  _ borderline obsession, _ of Japanese culture” 

“It wasn’t an obsession,” He whined. She laughed. “I just… was really into it.”

”Do you still like it?”

“Yes. Very much.” He had seen a documentary about Kyoto before his breakdown, and he had loved it. 

Marinette rolled the pot on her hands and giggled, a private joke shared with an invisible third person in the room. 

“We visited my family in Shanghai last year and I made a little escapade to Tokyo -I wanted to see the street fashion, get a little inspiration- I visited so many places and in one I saw this flower pot, and I thought it was beautiful.” She explained.

“I saw it from afar and when I went nearer and took it in my hands I realized it had been broken, and instead of throwing it away or gluing together, pretending that the shatters don’t exist, they put it back together using gold. Turns out, it’s a Japanese technique called  _ Kintsugi.  _ Is very popular, I was surprised I hadn’t heard about it before. Have you?”

“I have,”

“Great.” Marinette reached for his hand and put the pot on top of it, without letting it go either, “You can see the cracks and the gold and it all ties together perfectly, it’s more than it was before. Japanese people base this in an ideology called wabi-sabi. They see the beauty in the imperfect.”

Adrien swallowed, he knew exactly where this was going and he was not ready to hear it. The softness of her voice, the way the words flew with so much confidence and compassion, it was too much to take in. 

“Something broken can still be beautiful. Something shattered can become a masterpiece.

“Humans, we are the same.” Marinette cupped his cheek, “It’s been ten years and I can see how you put yourself together again. I can see the gold between your cracks, my love.”

“You always see the best on everyone,”

“Why don’t you? What good does it do to focus on the negative?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re back after almost ten years, that’s a very long time. You have a career, new friends, and a new home, that’s wonderful. However, instead of never looking back you decided to return, it makes me believe that you felt ready, that you worked on all the broken things you had. That’s more than enough, no one is asking you to be perfect, it is an impossible goal. Are you aware of it?”

“Yes. But.. it was what was always asked of me… I, it’s, no… it's not only that.” Adrien’s body felt too heavy and he fell to the floor. Marinette followed his way down in a more graceful move. “What I said before is true. I don’t want you to distance you from your friends, I don’t want to break you…

“I used to have constant breakdowns after heavy sessions with my therapist, and when it stopped happening I did amazing progress, however, Bea, warned me that Paris was triggering and of course, she was right, she is  _ always _ right. The first months here, I didn’t go out, I worked from home all the time and was afraid of stumbling into something that could make me have a meltdown. Once I went out, nothing happened. There were things that made me uncomfortable, and I felt insecure but nothing bad, until… someone told me a few things that made me think twice about our friendship.

“I want us to be friends. I love being here with you, but I’m not the amazing person you make me out to be. I’m getting too close to you, and if I break, I’m gonna break you with me. I don’t want that to happen.”

“Then, don’t let it happen. 

“Having flaws and your past doesn’t turn you in a villain. I believe all that, but if you really want this to work, if you really want to take care of our relationship, don’t make me repeat it anymore. Don’t make me convince you, don’t look for me to fix you; you’ve done an incredible job by yourself. Don’t put all your happiness and love on me, I can support you but I’m not a tool to take you to success. You haven’t hurt me because you haven’t done that, but this fear of doing it, it’s exactly what will take you into that path that frightens you.

“And if you love me, as much as I love you, I think this will be easily dodged. We just need to talk things out, and you don’t have to run away, or vanish off the face of the earth when things go wrong.”

Adrien looked up for the first time since they fell to the floor and watched her honest eyes glimmer. There was no sign of tears or emotion in there, only full determination. 

Her words swirled around the room like the smell of a recently burnt incense. 

“Don’t mourn what is still alive, kitty.” Those words struck harder, they were the final nail in the coffin. 

Letting his problems flow and not confront them was what had gotten him in the mess of a life he had today. Ignoring them and hoping for things to disappear if he left them behind burned and it hurt him even worse than the fire that had left him scarred. 

And all things considered, was he really protecting Marinette? Was he really walking away because he was scared of ruining their relationship and by consequence, ruining her? Or was he running away because  _ he _ didn’t want to destroy himself again? 

Once questioned, the answer didn’t take long to appear. 

Selfishness still ran deep in his veins, it would probably never disappear, he had been raised under a sheet of egocentric desires. 

Adrien let a smile appear on his face and cupped Marinette’s cheek and his glance caught hers in a warm embrace. Selfishness and fear met benevolence and courage.

He ran his hands through her hair and pressed his forehead against hers. 

Marinette spoke first, she probably felt the sense of mood. He was less stiffen and by own choice had made the centimeters between them disappear. 

“Something resonated in you,”

“Yeah. I want to argue with you, but your words…” He shook his head amusedly, “The fear is still there, but you’re right, only if I let it win I’ll destroy us. And that’s not what you want. When I said I wanted your forgiveness, and your friendship, or anything that you could offer to me, I meant it. I won’t back down because I’m scared, I’ve let fear dictate my life for far too long.”

“I like the sound of that.” She said wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies closer together. “I don’t want you to leave me ever again, please. I knew you would come back but it hurt to wait.”

“I’m sorry,” He said sincerely, “Next time I breakdown, we’ll talk I promise.”   
“Well said.” She kissed his cheek, threateningly close to the curve of his lips.

“You need to promise something too.”

“Do I?”

“Yep,” He passed his thumb across her cheek as he spoke, “You need to promise to not wait outside for me when the temperature is on the negative scale of numbers, princess.”

Marinette giggled. “That was kind of dumb, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but we all have a few dumb tendencies, it is only fair that you have something since you compensate it with so many other things.”

“Like my words?” She  brushed her lips against his jaw when she said this, “I gave you a really good speech just now, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“We could include in a TED Talk,” He laughed, “Really, I’ve always had great speeches, but this one was very clever and pretty, wasn’t it?”

“It was.” He agreed and tilted his head. “You only get wiser with age.”

“Like expensive wine.” Marinette separated a little to give a little wink only to come back and nuzzle her nose against his.”

“Wine, uh?” Adrien’s heart was twisted in knots, maybe it had tangled with the strings that attached him to her. 

She was so close, it was dangerous. He could hear her heart and the rhythm of her breath, feel the tingles going down her skin and the rush of warmness on her cheeks pressed against his. Her soft lips whispered something, she may as well be speaking in tongues because he was bewitched. 

It wasn’t the right course of action to think of her romantically after the talk they just had, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t felt more than friendship for her. It was just so easy to fall in his old feelings when she was everything he always loved. 

Lending a little bit of courage from her and expecting he wasn’t reading her wrong, he asked. 

“And do you taste as good?” He had always been bold but he expected that hadn’t been too over the top. 

Marinette gasped and then laughed silently.

“I’m not sure how to answer that,” Her finger touched his lower lip, “But you can try to figure out,  _ minou _ .” 

Aligned her lips to his and waited. Adrien looked at her one last time before kissing her, so when he closed his eyes he could remember her cheeks were flushed, her eyelashes gave little flutters and serenity covered her features.

It took only one brush of her lips to know that she was better and sweeter than any wine he could have tasted.  

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translation:  
> “¿Adrien?” The accent on his name did not go missing, and the strange familiarity made him smile a little.
> 
> “Bea, are you busy?”
> 
> “No,” He could not tell if she was lying. “What happened? Are you still in Paris?”
> 
> “Yes... well, the truth is that I have no idea where to begin,” He sighed, “I should have called you before,”
> 
> “Don't worry, Adrien. What's the problem?” (*)
> 
>  
> 
> i hope you liked it! next update will take longer than any other, im soooooooo busy and this story takes a lot of time and thinking bc of the way i decided to write it :)

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: buginettez


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